Trade Winds
by Relik
Summary: Reposted on request. The Golden Age of Piracy is waning, and Lawrence is feeling the decline. However, things start looking up when he's hired for a new job. It seems almost too good to be true. And it just might be, as he finds that his new captain is keeping secrets.
1. Prologue thru Chapter 3

**Author: **I originally posted this story sometime in 2006 or 2007. I deleted it in 2013, because I was cleaning up my account and according to my story stats, nobody was looking at it anymore. But I recently got a request to repost it! So I decided to put it back up. Seems logical. I tried to fix spelling errors (and change the sprinkles of British-isms back to American-isms), but forgive me if I've missed any. I've also mushed together a couple chapters for each post.

* * *

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Prologue**

* * *

_"And these are the only documents you have on the subject?" he asked, voice low and calm. The elderly man seated beside him at a desk was not similarly disposed, and he stuttered nervously as he answered._

"Y-yes. Or, well… I think so. T-that's all I could find, at least." The librarian must have sensed some of the other man's displeasure, for he hastened to add, "I only have access to this library, you understand. I-in other places…"

"These are the only documents you have on the subject?" he asked again; this time there was perhaps a hint of warning in his tone. The librarian swallowed, his eyes darting from the man standing at his side to the grim, yellow-eyed man standing just inside the door.

"Yes, I-"

_ "Good," the man interrupted. He leaned over the librarian's shoulder to pick up the thin stack of papers on the desk. "You did well."_

_ As he murmured the words into the old librarian's ear, he quietly drew a short sword from its sheath at his waist, and ran it swiftly through the old man's body._

_ "Thank you for your assistance."_

_ The librarian gasped once, his face registering shock. He died soundlessly a heartbeat later. The man who had murdered him did not bat an eye as he stepped around the desk, sheaf of papers in one hand, short sword in the other._

_ "Clean this," he said dismissively as he thrust the sword hilt-first at the man who waited by the door. The man took the sword with a small bow, wiping the bloody blade on his own shirt. He followed his leader out onto the dock where their ship was anchored, a motley crew assembled at the base of the gangplank._

_ The leader halted near the edge of the wooden structure, looking up at the stars. He held out his hand expectantly. The yellow-eyed man placed the hilt of the sword in his palm. He looked down, inspecting every inch of the blade._

_ "The stars are bright tonight," he said thoughtfully. He tilted the short sword so that it reflected the night sky. His crew watched. "Perfect for sailing."_

_ The weapon flashed as he raised it, to point off toward his right. "We sail northeast."_

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

Normally, I don't second-guess my actions. After I've done something, I just deal with what comes of my decision- no regrets. It's pointless to agonize over what has already happened, for just that reason: it _happened_. You can't change that. However…

_'Damn it all to Deep Sky! _Why_ didn't I take that post?'_

…this was a special case. After all, how was I to know that finding work would be so difficult? I'm a helmsman, one of the best. Hell, likely I _was_ the best (if I do say so myself… which I do). It's not like I don't have a reputation. I mean, I'm the man who sailed on the _Delphinus_. I was helmsman to Captain Vyse the Legend. I had figured that that distinction would bring me a multitude of prospective employers.

No. The truth was, my sort of people were running out of work. After the defeat of Galcian and Ramirez—after the destruction of the old regime—Prince Enrique became the ruler of the Valuan Empire. The Blue Rogues could no longer prey on the Valuan ships that had previously been such perfect targets. The only possible sources for income for us were Black Pirate ships and Discoveries. And Discoveries were fast being discovered. Soon there would be no more call for adventurous sailors to explore the skies and report their findings. Pretty soon there would be nothing new to be found in the sky. The golden age of piracy was waning, and pirate-for-hire types like myself were the first to feel the decline.

After the final battle between the _Delphinus_ and Ramirez and the Silver Gigas, Vyse had offered me a permanent position as helmsman on his ship. I declined, not considering the possibility that I wouldn't be able to find a job. I was a loner by nature; I didn't tie myself down to one ship. My reasoning behind this is sound, in my opinion. If I bound myself to one ship, I wouldn't have any say in where I went. By jumping from job to job, and thus ship to ship, I could chose where I went and what I did, after a fashion. If a potential employer was sailing somewhere I didn't want to go, I simply didn't take the job and waited for something more palatable.

It's been a year since I left the _Delphinus_, and I haven't had a job in all that time. Not even one proposition. My pockets were feeling rather empty, and a pirate with empty pockets is a pirate about to die. I have no desire to go out like that, and I was wondering if I could swallow my pride and ask Captain Vyse if his offer still stood when something unlikely happened.

I was in my usual spot, leaning against the outer wall of the Sailor's Guild building on Sailor's Isle, when I heard my name spoken by an unfamiliar voice. I glanced up, feigning disinterest. I had a reputation to uphold, and desperation was never good for negotiating pay.

"Are you Lawrence?" The man asked. I took in his appearance with a cursory glance. He was tall, nondescript—unremarkable brown hair and eyes—he was dressed well, though, and carried weapons of apparent high quality at his waist. Good. That meant he had money.

"I am." I replied curtly, after a pause.

"I'm looking to hire a helmsman. Bounty exploration," he said. I could see he was sizing me up, too.

"One hundred thousand gold. Up front," I told him dispassionately. Internally, I was wound tighter than a harp string. If he decided that my price was too high and didn't want to hire me…. Well, let's just say times would be tough for me in that situation.

"Of course." I was slightly surprised by his reply, but suppressed the expression of incredulity that threatened to flash across my face. He continued: "You want the best, you have to pay for the best, right?"

"Uh?" I made a small, undignified grunt of surprise when he tossed a bag at me. It made a clinking sound as it hit my chest before falling into the hands I held up to catch it. I blinked, and looked from the bag to my employer.

"That's half of it, there," he said calmly, "You'll get the other half when you show up at my ship tomorrow. We hoist anchor at daybreak."

"Right," I said, immediately pulling myself together and tucking the gold away. He studied me a half-second.

"And the name is Halvor. Captain Halvor Twyblade."

"Captain," I acknowledged with a nod of my head. He smiled wryly.

"I can tell you more about the job tomorrow, when I introduce you to the rest of the crew. Remember, daybreak tomorrow. If you're late, you won't be getting the second half of your payment. If you don't show up at all, I'll be coming back for my gold. Got it?"

"Aye, sir," I replied. My voice was back to its usual, cool, aloof tone. I'd swallowed my satisfaction with finding a job, and had slipped into professional mode once more. But I couldn't help but feel cheerful as Twyblade walked away and I leaned back against the wall, hearing the chink of money in my pocket and feeling its weight against my thigh.

_'Things are finally looking up,' _I thought in satisfaction.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

* * *

I arrived at the docks earlier than Twyblade had asked, my few possessions in a sack slung over my shoulder. I immediately spotted my employer at the prow of one of the ships moored at the end of the structure. I walked slowly toward him, running a trained eye over the length of the vessel.

She seemed like a good ship. Nothing in league with the _Delphinus_… but that was to be expected. As it was, she was mid-sized, long enough to accommodate four cannons along each side, by the number of closed gun-ports. Her keel was metal, the plating continuing up until the line of gun-ports; everything above that was wood planking. The name she bore was _Windsoul_.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" I shouted up at Twyblade as I stopped at the base of the gangplank. His head swiveled down to me. He gestured briefly, beckoning.

"Permission granted," he shouted in reply. I moved swiftly up the gangplank, adopting a long stride, excited to be on a ship once more. Yet I suppressed the emotion, keeping a stoic outer shell.

_'You're a professional, damnit!'_ I chastised myself. _'So stop acting like a child with a toy boat!'_

"You're early," Twyblade observed calmly. I shrugged.

"It would be pointless for me to stay on land, waiting and wasting time, when I could become familiarized with the ship. The sooner I can work quickly and efficiently onboard, the better."

"Indeed." Twyblade looked faintly pleased with me. "Well, we're still waiting for two of my crew, who went to pick up a few items we'll need for the voyage. In the meantime, I'll introduce you to the others."

"Aye sir."

Twyblade led me to the ship's aft deck, where two short and stocky sailors were coiling a length of heavy rope. They looked up at the Captain approached, and I realized that they were identical twins. Both had their black hair cut in the same bowl-like style, and below the dark fringe of hair, their pale brown eyes sat in strong features. Their square jaws completed the image of the stereotypical burly pirate thug. I guessed that they did most of the grunt work on the ship.

"Lawrence, this is Kender, and Galen. They're the mechanics, but they also do other odd jobs on board, as you can see. I can't give you any tips on how to tell them apart, though, I still haven't quite gotten that down either," Twyblade chuckled. I took a second look at the twins. He was right… there wasn't any obvious difference in the two. The telling differences, I supposed, would be in their personalities or bearings.

"And you would be our new helmsman," said one of them. It was a statement, not a question.

"That's right," I replied coolly, quietly. They turned simultaneously to the Captain- _'Galen's shoulders are a touch more stooped than Kender's'_ I noted absently- and briefly discussed the ship's second level auxiliary ballast with him. After a few minutes, Twyblade left the twins to their work, and led me below deck.

"On my ship," he said, "we serve three meals, but only at the times I've set aside for them. The galley's closed at all other times."

"Aye sir," I replied, when it seemed that he was waiting for my response. "What are the times?"

"We breakfast at dawn, when we wake; our second meal is at midday, and supper is at sunset. Basically, we eat with the sun," Twyblade laughed softly at himself, humor glinting in his eye. "Moons preserve us if it's overcast."

He stopped walking and turned toward the door next to him. Taking a guess from the mouthwatering smells that were emanating from the other side, I figured that it was the galley. Twyblade made a small 'ah-ha!' sound, and stepped inside, gesturing me to follow. I entered, and came face-to-face with a wiry black-haired man. He had a thin, angular face.

"Lawrence, this is Landric, our cook. He's also quite handy in a fight, but we try to avoid such things." Twyblade grinned over the cook's shoulder at me, "I prefer not to risk losing a crewman. Then I'd have to hire a new one. Such an inconvenience."

His tone was not serious, but I wondered suddenly exactly what had led to _my_ employment. Had his previous helmsman died? Quit? Been fired? I shrugged off my speculations. What did it matter, anyway? I was getting paid, that's all that I really cared about.

I looked Landric in the eye steadily for a second. _'I hope his appearance doesn't reflect the quality of his food…'_ I thought absently, taking in his rather scrawny build. _'Although… whatever's cooking does smell extremely edible.'_

"Pleased t'meet yer," growled Landric in a surprisingly deep voice. He looked at me with shadowed grey eyes. "Yer _the_ Lawrence?"

"If by 'the' Lawrence you mean the one who fought on the _Delphinus_," I replied, "then yes, I am he."

"Huh," he grunted. "Tales tell that ye put in a bit o' fancy flyin' in tha' final battle."

"Not really," I lied; had it been anyone other than Captain Vyse or myself at the helm during that battle, we would have been sunk. The _Delphinus _had certainly been put through her paces during that fight. But in truth, I had only done what had been needed to keep my own hide intact. Landric made a doubtful noise, but did not comment. He turned back to his work, slapping a fresh fish onto a cutting board.

"Cap'n!" shouted a voice from the corridor. A second later, a petite girl burst into the galley. She huffed a moment in the doorway before noticing me. Immediately, a grin spread across her face, and she bounced over to me, peering up into my face impishly.

"Ooh, you must be our new helmsman!" She paused a moment, brown eyes dancing, and then said over her shoulder, "You didn't tell me he was _handsome_, Cap'n!"

"Tresa…" Twyblade warned, sounding a bit exasperated. I merely looked back at her, carefully keeping any trace of my thoughts from showing on my face. I heard Landric nearly choking as he tried to muffle his laughter behind me.

_'…This might turn out to be a very long voyage. I hope she's not as persistent as most. Although she's already a little too bubbly for my tastes.'_ Tresa laughed, spinning around and flouncing—I cringed mentally—over to the Captain.

"Aw, I know, Cap'n. No romances on board," she gave me a sidelong glance, "…pity."

"Did you have something to tell me?" prompted Twyblade, impatiently.

"Sure do, Cap'n. Wanthope and Meshin are back with the stuff. They want to know where they should put everything."

"Right. Go tell them I'll be on deck soon." Tresa gave a cocky salute, and disappeared through the door. Twyblade looked at me.

"Sorry about her. She's a bit… energetic. But she has an amazing sense of direction, and the eyesight of a hunter-bird when she's up in the crow's nest. Not to mention she's as nimble up in the rigging as if they were solid ground." Twyblade gestured vaguely. "Besides, she'll obey me. She won't bother you."

" 'Energetic,' " I muttered darkly, too quietly for the Captain to hear. He continued:

"Come on up to the deck with me; you can help store the goods." He moved through the ship with assurance, confident in his captaincy. I followed contentedly, slipping back into ship-life like a fish slipping back into the sky. I'd missed it; I had been landed for much too long.

Up on the main deck, there were several crates and other assorted containers stacked in a miniature mountain of materials. The twins Kender and Galen, Tresa, and two other men whom I did not know were moving purposefully around the pile. One of the unknown men held a sheet of paper in his hand, and seemed to be in charge of the situation. Twyblade went straight towards him, hailing him cheerfully.

"Jerem! Have you all that was on the list?"

"Aye sir," replied Jerem as the Captain drew nearer, with me trailing. "It's all there. Where would you like everything stored?"

"Well, bring all the food stuffs to Landric; he'll want it put in the storage compartment off the galley. The ammunition you can put on the gun deck, and everything else goes to the usual place—cargo."

"Aye aye, Captain Twyblade," Jerem replied. He walked forward, nearer the supplies in question, and began shouting orders to the crewmembers who hovered there. Twyblade half-turned to me.

"That was Jerem Wanthope, my second-in-command. If I'm unavailable to talk at anytime, you can bring your questions or concerns to him," Twyblade swung away, abruptly raising his voice, "Meshin!"

A grim-looking fellow popped up suddenly from behind a barrel. I had to do a double-take, because, at first, his ruffled hair looked white, and I was struck with the impossible thought: _'A Silvite? Here?'_

But as I looked at him again, I realized that his hair was in fact a pale grey, even though his face was youthful enough to be my age, or perhaps younger. That wasn't the only thing peculiar about his appearance, either. His eyes were an odd, flat, yellow color, like chips of sulphur. Completely unreadable. I really couldn't help but stare as Twyblade talked to him.

"—and it's stable in this form? We won't have any problems carrying it?" I cursed myself for becoming distracted, as I wondered what the Captain was talking about. Meshin answered him softly.

"Yes sir. They assured me that it would stay safe as long at they were sealed up tight, away from water and fire."

"I expect you'll keep them that way, until we need them," Twyblade ordered. It was a clear dismissal, and Meshin disappeared as silently as he had come. "Lawrence."

"Sir?"

"Help the others store the supplies."

"Yes, sir." I obeyed promptly, walking over to one of the crates. As I bent to get a grip on the edges, somebody came up to the other side.

"Here, I'll take this end. One, two… hup!" The voice was brisk and businesslike, and as I straightened, holding my end of the crate securely, I looked over the top to meet the gaze of the ship's second-in-command.

"We'll need to move this one to the hull compartment. The stairs are behind you," said Wanthope, nodding with his chin in the appropriate direction.

"Yes sir," I replied, taking a step backward as I craned my neck around to try to get at least some idea of where I was heading.

"I expect the Captain has already informed you of who I am, and as I already know who you are, let's skip the introductions. Welcome to the _Windsoul_," Wanthope's voice was a bit strained from the effort of carrying the crate, as was mine as I answered.

"Thank you, sir." We started down the second flight of stairs, into the belly of the ship.

"The Captain will fill you in on the details, but we're pretty much just Discoverers. We hunt for the Discoveries the Sailor's Guild has put bounties on. On a ship as quick as the _Windsoul_, we can usually beat out most of the other Discoverers, and the Captain's been building the best sailing crew for several years now. If you're as good at the helm as your reputation says, we'll be able to get to the Discoveries even faster. The Captain's looking for a good haul this time around," Wanthope nodded as we set the crate down next to the handful that were already in the compartment.

"I'm worth the gold I'm paid," I responded simply. We walked back up to the deck for another load, passing Kender and Galen as they carried a large barrel to the gun deck. Wanthope and I ended up carrying another of the unwieldy barrels down the same way as the twins. I furrowed my brow at the letters painted on the side of the drum.

_'Pyrulen jelly?'_ This stuff was like liquid fire, but sticky. My mind conjured up an image of the barrel bursting, splattering globs of flame everywhere. I was a bit perplexed as to why we needed the foul stuff. _'We're Discoverers, are we not? Why would we need such a weapon? Well, maybe if Black Pirates give us trouble. The skies aren't free of dangers…'_

We secured the barrel in a honeycomb-like structure on the gun deck, so that it would not roll around or be jostled in case of bad weather. As we brushed off our hands, the captain's voice came over the ship's intercom. It had the tinny-quality of a lower-grade system, but his words were clear anyway.

"All crewmembers to their stations! Wanthope and helmsman Lawrence to the bridge."

"I suppose we're casting off, then," Wanthope said, sounding pleased. So we made our way to the bridge quickly. The Captain was standing by the wheel, looking out the bank of windows before him with his back to us.

"Captain Twyblade," Wanthope took his place standing at a broad table that was spread with maps. Twyblade turned around.

"Are we ready to get underway?" the Captain asked of Wanthope formally.

"Aye sir." The sun had only just cleared the horizon, streaming into through the windows of the bridge. The vast expanse of clear sky stretched out beyond the wooden piers of Sailor's Isle.

"Helmsman, if you would lead us out," Twyblade swept his hand to the wheel beside him. Without hesitance, I stepped up.

"Aye aye, Captain!"

* * *

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"Bring her around twenty degrees west," Twyblade said lazily. I automatically adjusted the wheel.

"Twenty degrees west, aye sir."

"You know, Lawrence," the Captain remarked abruptly, "You don't have to stand so much on formality. It's so very tiresome, and I find that it sometimes gets in the way of operations. When I give you an order, it isn't always necessary to repeat it. I'll know if you heard me if you obey my command or not."

How was I supposed to respond? Did he want a response? I couldn't quite tell if he was speaking as the captain or as a person. It sounded like one of those instances when people in power have to exercise their power in an attempt to become more familiar with their subordinates. Those attempts usually fail, as the subordinates generally feel extremely uncomfortable, unsure if their conduct is out-of-line and fearing to disobey the superior by not doing as asked. I wondered if Twyblade was aware of the way he had sounded. I wondered if he wanted me to acknowledge his words. I settled with asking dryly: "Is that an order, sir?"

The Captain, if anything, is not stupid. He got my meaning. He looked at me with something very like shock on his face. Then I suppose the irony of his request and my comment kicked in. He gave a short bark of surprised laughter. "Was that… Was that a _joke_?"

He laughed again and then, grinning, said, "no. That wasn't an order, just merely a request. I've never been a stickler for all that pomp and circumstance, and besides, I don't really want my crew thinking I've got a stick up my arse. Just makes things unfriendly."

"I know what you mean, sir." I did, too. There had been several ships I'd sailed on where the captain had been stiff and haughty. Their crews usually hated them, and divided—or even nonexistent—loyalties could sink ships. I never stayed long on those vessels, preferring to be somewhere else when they did sink.

"I'm sure you do," Twyblade replied easily, as he leaned closer to a window and scanned the sky. "We're heading in the general direction of Ixa'taka for now. When we reach Horteka, inform me. I'll probably be in my cabin. Oh, and Wanthope will relieve you of your post at meal times so you can eat."

I nodded, really only halfway paying attention to his words as I pitched the bow angle up a touch to ride out a patch of turbulent air. The Captain exited the bridge through a small door at the back, separate from the wide opening that led back to the rest of the ship. I assumed that beyond the small door lay the Captain's quarters; some captains preferred to have rooms just off the bridge. It put them closer to hand, so if anything happened they could be right in the thick of things right away.

I could remember various instances when Vyse had fallen asleep _on _the bridge, in his captain's chair. Hardly professional, but he was always up and ready at the slightest hint of action, and in those times every second counted. It would have been pretty bad if the _Delphinus_ had been under attack with her captain still in his sleeping cap, all tucked up in his quarters.

_'I wonder if he still does that,'_ I mused. Kicking those kinds of habits, things you had had to do merely to survive, was difficult. Despite the new Valuan order instated by Prince Enrique, I still couldn't help but grab my cutlass's hilt whenever I saw a Valuan soldier. During the Empress' rule, during the time of Galcian, Ramirez, DeLoco, and the rest, the sight of a Valuan soldier had meant a fight for your life. _'But that's over now.'_

I shook my head slightly and concentrated on the task at hand.

"Go get some food. I'll relieve you now," Wanthope broke the long silence of the bridge suddenly, and I felt a muscle in my jaw jump. Though I didn't jerk in startlement, my hands did tighten on the wheel briefly before I forced them to relax.

"Right. Thanks," I replied shortly, stepping out of his way. He took up my position, though his posture was notably more rigid than mine. I've heard people liken me, in both physical bearing and emotional, to a cat. Wanthope was more like a… rock. Solid. Immovable. Stiff and stern.

I checked myself just as I was about to enter the galley, suddenly hyper-aware of the conversation being carried on within the room. Over the hum of the ship's engines below, and the clack of cutlery and clatter of cookware next door, I picked out the sound of my name being spoken. I slid up against the wall just beside the door, so nobody could see me if they glanced up at the entrance, and listened.

"So what does everyone think of our illustrious new helmsman?" one of the twins—Kender or Galen, I wasn't certain—drawled. There was a pause in the others' conversations, a break in all the sounds coming from the galley as everybody froze.

"Cap'n says I can't flirt with him," declared the bold Tresa.

"Not that that means you _won't_," quipped a twin. There was moderate laughter at this. I could just picture the girl pouting outrageously.

"I think 's good t'have 'im onboard," Landric said. " 'E's a skilled 'elmsman by any account."

"Oh, of course. There probably isn't a sailor around who hasn't heard of the _Delphinus'_ adventures. They may not know that Lawrence was the helmsman, but they do know that the helmsman was a good one," Tresa put in quickly. "And now _we've _got him."

"That is true. He's a good asset to the crew because of his abilities. As a sailor and as a soldier. Tales tell he's pretty good in a fight, too." The sounds of eating had been slowly increasing once more as they spoke, and now there was a break in the conversation as they all chewed thoughtfully.

"What about you, Meshin?" asked Kender/ Galen. I grew very still, listening intently. How did that strange gunner feel about me? I had an uneasy feeling that he didn't count me as a friend. And I didn't think that he was a person I wanted as an enemy.

"I don't like him," said Meshin's soft voice. I felt as if somebody had doused me with ice water.

"W-why?" asked Tresa, in surprise.

"When I first saw him I had the feeling that he was going to cause trouble. He's not meant for this," Meshin explained. I wondered what he meant by 'this.' Hunting for Discoveries? Why wouldn't I be?

"That's all? You don't like him because of a feeling you had?" Kender/ Galen asked, sounding halfway amused, halfway intrigued. Hearing Meshin reply in that unsettlingly quiet voice of his was not difficult, as all other sounds had once again halted.

"Yes. My first impressions of people are usually correct. Lawrence is going to become a problem." There was a clink of a knife being placed on a plate.

"Really? But Cap'n says he's best for this job," said Tresa's voice. There was a slight pause in which the sound of chair legs scraping across the floor could be heard—somebody was standing up. Likely Meshin, if I was reading the situation and events correctly.

"Yes, and I'll be taking that up with the Captain shortly," Meshin's response was cold and grim. Unease prickled over me.

I didn't want to be discovered standing at the door, eavesdropping, so I fled quietly. I'd get my noon meal a little later, when they weren't discussing me. I had plenty food for thought, in any case.

_'So, I've inadvertently made an enemy of one of the most dangerous people on the ship,'_ I thought. _'Or perhaps he's not as dangerous as he seems?_

_'Yeah, and maybe Loopers drink loqua and dance the waltz every Sunday.'_ I snorted in derision, thinking of Meshin's sharp sulphur-eyes. The man positively oozed hostility, though it was as subtle as poison and twice as dangerous. I rubbed my forehead, _'Like I really need this kind of complication. If things get worse, I may end up sleeping with one eye open.'_

After I had gotten my noon meal—scraped out cold from the bottom of the pot just as Landric was dragging it to the wash basin—I made my way back to the bridge to take my second shift at the wheel. Landric's grumbling followed me down the hall.

"Yer cuttin' it close, boyo. Didn' th' cap'n tell yeh th' mealtimes? Get 'ere sooner next time!"

"Lawrence," hailed Wanthope as I arrived on the bridge. "I need you to report to the Captain before you relieve me. I need you to tell him that there's a bit of a gale in our projected course, and ask him what his orders are."

"Yes sir." I turned around and walked to the small door at the back of the bridge. It was closed, but as I approached, I could see it wasn't closed all the way. And I could hear low voices through the thin crack between it and the doorjamb.

"Respectfully, Captain, I think we should dump him."

_'Oh hell…'_ The voice was unmistakably Meshin's, and the subject was equally unmistakably me. His threat in the galley was obviously not idle.

"Really? You see, I personally think we will require him in the future. Or have you forgotten what I've told you?" Twyblade's voice was dangerously friendly.

"I have not forgotten, sir."

"Well, then I don't expect to hear any more on this subject from you." There was a pause, and Twyblade added: "I've heard your warning, and you are dismissed, crewman."

"Captain," Meshin said stiffly. I backed way up from the door as his footsteps approached. There wasn't anything I could do but stand there, and I was certain Meshin wouldn't be fool enough to think I hadn't heard anything. Sure enough, when he emerged from the room and saw me, his eyes narrowed.

I met his glare with a coldly expressionless stare. Nothing was said; nothing needed to be said. The look in his eyes acknowledged that I was now well informed of his animosity toward me, and I expect that my gaze communicated that the feeling was mutual.

_'Things just got worse…'_


	2. Chapter 4 thru 7

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

* * *

It was quite lucky that the storm that had been hovering between the _Windsoul_ and the North Ocean had been rather contained. The captain hadn't wanted to try a run through it, but he also hadn't wanted to waste more time than necessary sailing around it. As it was, the detour around would only take half a day, so he opted for that choice. I was privately grateful for the decision. Flying through storms, while not particularly difficult for me, still is not my favourite thing to do. Why take unnecessary risks? After all, even the most skillful helmsman or the most agile ship couldn't dodge lightning.

We skirted along the edge of the tempest, occasionally catching the tail-end of wind gusts that had escaped the roiling storm. These the _Windsoul_ endured easily, with only the slightest shudder as the gusts struck her broadside. I kept our course steady, so that those small wind-shudders were the only disturbances to the ship's passage through the North Ocean. Wanthope took his turn at the wheel just as my mind started registering signs of hunger in the rest of me. My stomach growled as I swung down the ladder to the deck below the bridge.

Landric was fast becoming my favorite crewmember on the _Windsoul_, for his role as chef. I sniffed the air as I neared the galley, wondering what was being served.

_'I'll be ruined for any other ship after this,'_ I told myself, hardly loath for it. Before Vyse had managed to get a decent chef from Yafutoma, his crew, myself included, had all had to take turns as chef. I still can't even look at fish stew. But Landric was skilled at his job, and it worked out that he enjoyed making his concoctions almost as much as the crew enjoyed eating them. It was altogether a win-win situation.

"Lawrence!" Tresa beamed as I entered the galley, and followed me up to the long counter that divided the eating area of the galley from the cooking area. "So you've finally been let off the bridge!"

"I suppose," I replied shortly, picking up a bowl and casting an inquisitive eye over the pot Landric was feverishly stirring. I was the last in line; the twins waited to be served in front of me.

"So d'you know if we're nearly at Horteka?"

"Well, we should be nearing the great rock wall that separates the North Ocean from Ixa'taka soon…" I responded.

"Oh." Tresa fell silent a moment, and I watched as Landric ladled some of whatever the pot contained into Galen's bowl. Suddenly a thought struck her and she brightened. "Hey, I don't suppose the Cap'n said if we were going to put in at Horteka?"

"No," I shook my head, "he didn't say."

I stepped up in front of Landric as Galen followed his brother to one of the eating tables. I held out my bowl hesitantly, feeling a little wary of the smell of the meal.

"What exactly is this you're serving today?" I asked Landric as he dug the ladle deep into the pot. He drew it up, steaming and full of…

"Fish stew!" he declared happily. I could feel the color drain from my face. I hurriedly snatched back my bowl before any of the stuff could land in it.

"Uh… maybe I'll just have some bread?"

"Wha'?" From the tone of Landric's voice, nobody had turned down any of his food before. Tresa was staring at me in astonishment.

"If I could just have a good chunk of bread, that'd be great," I repeated, feeling a touch green. I tried to ignore the fact that most everyone in the galley was staring at me.

_'Why did it have to be fish stew?'_

"Bu'… bu' _why_?" Landric asked, baffled. I kept the bowl in my hands well away from the ladle he still held suspended over the pot.

"Bad experience with fish stew," I explained briefly. '_If he doesn't get that slopping ladle back in the pot, I'm gonna—!'_

"Er, alrigh'…" Landric stuck the spoon back in the stew, turning around to grab a half loaf of the thick, coarse ship bread that was being served with the meal. My grip on my bowl relaxed marginally. " 'Ere ye go, then."

"Thanks," I murmured, taking the proffered food. I turned, steadfastly not looking at any of the other crewmembers, and sat down at one of the tables.

"Er…What—?" Tresa started, her curiosity finally becoming too much for her to handle. I interrupted before she even got the question out.

"Have you ever sailed on a ship without a cook?" She blinked.

"No… Why?"

"Don't. Ever. Unless you really have faith in your crewmates' cooking." I tore off a bite of bread, turning my attention to the task of eating. In my peripheral vision, I saw Tresa's mouth form an 'o' of realization, her eyes widening with sudden understanding.

"That's right… Captain Vyse had only a skeleton crew for a while…" She said. I swallowed the bread and glared at the remaining hunk in my hand. I wasn't feeling all that hungry anymore.

I stood up and left wordlessly, leaving the bread on the table behind me.

* * *

I took back the wheel from Wanthope, though there wasn't much of a point; we arrived at Horteka mere moments later, and I was sent to inform the Captain. I knocked curtly on the door to his quarters and stepped back when it swung open under my fist.

"Ah. Lawrence. Have we arrived, then?" Twyblade held the edge of the door in one hand and a roll of paper in the other.

"Aye Captain," I replied. The words were barely out of my mouth before he was moving forward.

"Excellent! Wanthope, chart a course for the location I've marked on this—" Twyblade thrust the roll of paper at his Second "—and Lawrence, take the wheel."

"Aye sir," we chorused, moving to comply.

"Bow angle up five degrees, rise to an altitude of one-three-zero-zero. Turn her to the southwest eight degrees," Wanthope said after a pause as he unrolled the map.

I turned the wheel steadily, bringing the _Windsoul_ around to face that direction, and slowly pulled a lever on the controls up, causing the fins at the back of the ship to angle to give us more lift. She rose easily, riding the wind like a cloud. I was starting to like the ship, even if the crew was… odd.

"There it is…" Twyblade said at length. The humid haze that hung over Ixa'taka seemed to draw back like a curtain, revealing a tiny island floating alone in the sky. I wondered immediately why we had even bothered coming, as the thing was little more than a tree-thick rock. I couldn't even see any signs of habitation. There were just trees; trees and… green.

I darted a glance at Twyblade. He looked at the island with a sort of satisfied smile on his face, some emotion glinting in his eyes before he turned away and started toward the ladder down to the rest of the ship.

"Wanthope, call the others to the main deck. Lawrence, you'll be staying with the ship, along with Landric." His voice carried over his shoulder to us. I spared a moment of indignation. I was as well-known for my fighting skill as for my sailing; why did I have to stay behind?

_'Stop being foolish,' _I told myself, almost rolling my eyes at myself, _'You still need to learn how to work with the crew before you join them in a landing party.'_

"So I just hold the fort until the group returns?" I asked Wanthope as he started to leave after giving out his orders over the ship's intercom. He nodded once.

"This should not take long," he told me, and disappeared down the ladder. Well, all right then. I watched them walk into the thick vegetation from the bridge's wrap-around windows, and settled back to wait.

_'This should be boring,'_ I rubbed the back of my neck, leaning against the control console. _'There isn't anything to protect the ship from on this island. I wonder why we're here… maybe there's some ancient treasure.'_

I thought back to the tales Captain Vyse used to tell to anybody who'd listen, about the ruined city of Rixis. It had been fabled to be haunted… and dripping with treasure. While the former had been somewhat true, the latter had ended up being a myth.

My eyes swept the tree line of the island. Perhaps there were ruins somewhere in that tangled mess? Somewhere… deep… in that tangled mess? I jerked in surprise as a flock of brightly colored birds exploded from the jungle off in the distance a ways. Well, whatever the Captain was after on this little rock, he seemed to have found it. Either that, or there was some sort of animal and it just attacked the group.

_'I hope it got Meshin,'_ I thought uncharitably. Having him on the same ship as me was definitely unnerving. I usually don't have the problem of a crewmember hating me; at most it's just a mild dislike. And I usually just kill my enemies outright, and not worry about them later. Having to leave this guy, who so obviously wants to spill my blood—preferably all of it—alive wasn't really a happy concept.

Leaves moved out on the island. Tresa, Kender, Galen, Wanthope, Twyblade, and Meshin emerged from the foliage. I watched them quizzically. They were spread out in a defensive perimeter, as if they expected to be attacked by something. Their heads swiveled around, alert and wary, and I noted with a frown that a few had their weapons at the ready.

_'Their weapons… and nothing else,'_ I realized with a little jolt. It was true; there were no treasure chests slung between them, no ancient relics or weathered maps clutched in their hands… nothing. _'What did we stop at this island for, then? And why do they act as if they're just making off with a king's ransom in gold and diamonds?'_

All of them seemed on edge, a mere breath away from springing into action. All except Twyblade, who strode forward confidently, unconcerned. I stared at him; he acted as if he were on a picnic!

Then he halted unexpectedly, his head turning off to the side. He made a swift gesture out toward the trees, a savage chopping motion. And then Meshin was darting into the jungle, drawing a moonstone pistol from a holster at his hip.

I blinked, and abruptly felt extremely uneasy. My stomach twisted, and I had the sudden thought that, maybe, I didn't really want Twyblade to know I had seen any of this. I backed away from the windows slowly, and went to the table that stood behind the helm. It was strewn with maps, and I quickly pulled out one of Mid Ocean.

I settled myself into a stance that made it seem as if I had been there for a while, artfully creating the scene. With any luck, the captain would assume I had been looking at the maps, and not watching the events outside.

_'Why did we stop here?'_ I wondered as I glanced over the map. It was a new one; Soltis was drawn where before only the tiny Shrine Island had been. _'And why were they acting like they expected a sword in the back? Surely there aren't any people on this rock; it's much too small… Isn't it?'_

"Man the helm, if you would, crewman Lawrence," I heard the Captain's voice before his head cleared the top of the ladder. I nearly jumped, blending the jerk smoothly into the movement of straightening up from the slight stoop I had assumed over the map table.

"Aye aye, Captain." My voice gave nothing away; it was as bland and disinterested as ever. "What's our course, sir?"

The Captain gave a wolfish grin, "We sail due north."

He looked energized, excited. Whatever the reason for stopping at that diminutive Ixa'takan island, it definitely had had an uplifting effect on the Captain.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

* * *

I was asleep in my hammock when the Black Pirate ship was spotted. I snapped awake at the _snick_ of the intercom turning on, and was already up and on my feet, completely aware, when the Captain started speaking.

"Attention all crewmembers: a Black Pirate ship has been sighted off our starboard side. They appear to be sailing on an intercept course. Prepare for battle."

The message was short, but the captain spoke casually and unconcernedly. Even so, I was running high as I snatched up my cutlass from where it hung on its peg beside my hammock, dashing out of the room even as the twins, with whom I shared the space, scrambled to get up. Battle! Adrenaline was beginning to pulse through my body.

Though I don't take particular pleasure in killing others, it's hard to not enjoy the fighters' high that grips you when facing down an enemy. It's intoxicating.

I was almost on the deck when a voice called my name behind me. I spun around.

"Lawrence! Get to the gun deck and stand by in case we need a cannon shot!" Wanthope ordered, as he ran past me.

"But sir," I protested, "isn't Meshin the _Windsoul_'s gunner?"

"Meshin is held up fighting on deck; you need to take his place. That's an order, sailor!"

Then he was out of sight, and—what else could I do?—I turned and ran back toward the gun deck. I knew how to prep and fire the cannons, sure enough, but there _was_ a reason I was a helmsman rather than a gunner. And I couldn't help but feel resentful that I was stuck below decks while the rest of them fought. Did they think all the stories about my part in the battles against the Gigas were pure fabrication? The adrenaline and anticipation that ran through me made me itch for a part of the action.

"Damn it," I muttered, and kicked a cannon lightly, "I don't have this cutlass just because it looks good hanging from my belt…"

I couldn't hear much through the ship's hull, and only faint noises filtered through the cannon ports, which were all still closed. I wondered what was going on. The _Windsoul_ was a sturdy ship, yes, but even so… I should have been able to hear _some_ sounds of the battle up on the deck.

Feeling thoroughly irritated, I sat on the cannon and waited. I stewed in my own juices a while, before I heard booted feet thudding down the corridor. Swiftly, I stood, my hand going to my cutlass hilt.

"Huh," I grunted, seeing it was only Galen when he halted in the doorway. He seemed not to notice my half-drawn weapon, and looked at me calmly.

"The Captain wants you to help us transfer all the loot from the Black Pirate ship to the _Windsoul_."

"So they surrendered?" I asked, sliding gracefully out of the defensive crouch I had assumed. Galen gave me an odd look.

"No. They didn't surrender," he said, and turned around to walk out the door. I furrowed my brow at his back, somewhat confused at his remark. I followed him up to the main deck.

The rest of the crew had obviously done some cleanup, because there were no bodies to be seen. They must have had already cast them over the side of the ship, to be swallowed up by deep sky. This is what is usually done with the dead on a ship; it was simply pointless to waste cargo space or living space to keep a corpse, which would grow putrid and rotting quickly anyway.

Taking a brief glance around, I realized the meaning behind Galen's comment about the Black Pirates not surrendering: there were no prisoners, nobody left alive. Evidently, they had all fought to the death. That wasn't common, even with opponents such as Black Pirates, and I wondered why the Black Pirates had fought so hard. It was a given that, if they surrendered to us, we would loot their ship, so perhaps they had cargo that they really didn't want to give up…

"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Tresa behind me. I looked back at her over my shoulder. "We could use some help searching their ship for all the treasure that's tucked away on board."

She walked around me and stood poised at one of the ropes that connected the _Windsoul_ to the Black pirate ship, her hands akimbo.

"You'll have to cross the ropes; we haven't found a plank long enough to serve as a bridge yet."

"That's fine," I replied, and approached the ship's side. My eyes narrowed as I surveyed the gap. We'd been able to lash the two ships somewhat close together, but there was still a sizeable stretch of air between the two vessels. It would have been impossible to get them right next to each other because of the chance that they'd crash together, and because of the fin-oars that sprouted from both hulls. The distance was spanned by a handful of thick hemp ropes.

While I could have run across one of the ropes, I didn't want to seem arrogant, and I glanced around for any possible alternatives. I was pleased to notice a boarding rope tied to the railing nearby. It led up to one of the high mast poles of the Black Pirate ship, providing a crude swing to carry some one from ship to ship. I loosed it from the railing and stepped back, getting a grip high enough up on the rope so that I landed on the opposite deck, rather than swinging smack into the side of the other ship.

The wind whistled in my ears as I sailed through the air between the two decks, and I watched attentively for the best moment to release the rope…

My boots made a satisfactory thud as I landed on the deck of the Black Pirate ship, echoed by another thump as Tresa landed beside me from her own rope-swing over. I tied my rope off at the railing to keep it out of the way, and scanned the deck.

When I saw Twyblade standing off to the side, I moved toward him. He said: "We've already started to move the goods stowed in the hull over to the _Windsoul_. Could you search the rest of the ship for things like the personal items of the crew?"

"Aye aye," I replied. But it wasn't just me he spoke to; Tresa added her own affirmative a second after mine, and Twyblade nodded to the both of us.

"Get on with it. I'd rather not linger on this task; we have other items of business."

"Let's go, Lawrence!" cried Tresa as she seized my arm and gave it a tug. I extracted the limb from her grasp and wordlessly walked to the door that led presumably below decks. She pouted behind me a moment before realizing that I wasn't going to stop and apologize, and ran to catch up.

"Cold as ice," she huffed when she had caught up. I merely ignored her, and opened the door to one of the ship's rooms.

It was the crew's quarters, a long room filled with two rows of hammocks. I drew my cutlass and cut down one of them, gathering the cloth into a makeshift bag and sheathing my weapon. There were a few things worth taking in the room, but pirates mostly tend to either wear their wealth or spend it right away. The greater portion of the crew's personal effects would have been stripped of the corpses before they were cast overboard.

Tresa tossed me a small gold idol she'd found, and led the way to the next room.

"This is my favourite part of the job," she admitted, her boisterous good humor having returned, "I love looking for shinies! The others can have their heavy-lifting; I don't care that they deal with the bigger treasure, it's _this_ that's really gratifying!"

"Huh," I said noncommittally. My favourite part of any job was the part when I got paid.

"Plus, I get to pick over the best stuff," Tresa continued. She flipped out a thin dagger from somewhere on her person and started picking the lock to a chest. I gave a goblet of some dubious silver-ish material a once over before putting it back on its shelf. Worthless.

There was a tiny noise to my side somewhere, just beyond my peripheral vision. As I turned, Tresa suddenly shrieked.

"Look out, Lawrence!"

Halfway through the turn, I realized that there was a man flying through the air at me, a long kitchen knife in one hand. Then my instincts and all my fighting experience kicked in. I truthfully couldn't tell you with any certainty what happened in the following few seconds, but the next thing I knew, I was standing about a foot to the left of my original position and the man was lying facedown where I had been standing. My cutlass was in my hand, and slick with blood. The man did not move.

"Oh," said Tresa. Her eyes were wide. "You move _fast_."

I wiped my blade on the body and sheathed it, before kneeling beside my attacker and flipping him over. His face was still twisted in a scowl, but his eyes glared out sightlessly. I had killed him with a deep, long slash across his soft belly. I averted my face at the stench of rent bowels, and let the body flop back onto its face.

I looked for whatever niche he'd leapt at me from, and my gaze fell upon a cabinet whose doors still swung slightly on their hinges. It was just large enough to conceal a man. My eyes narrowed as I straightened from my crouch and looked down at the body. It was a rather futile thing he'd done, and I wondered contemptuously if he had hidden there where the fighting had first broken out or if he'd fled when things started looking bleak for his side. In any case, it didn't matter anymore.

"Come on," I said, "let's go on to the next room, but watch yourself. There could be more hiding."

There weren't any more pirates waiting in ambush, but there wasn't anything else either. In other words, the ship was just about barren of anything of value.

_'This must have been the worst Black Pirate crew in existence,'_ I thought as I swung the pathetic bag of treasure over my shoulder, _'No wonder none of them surrendered; they had nothing to lose, and everything to gain!'_

The rest of the crew was waiting on deck when Tresa and I emerged. Tresa bounded up to Twyblade immediately.

"Cap'n! You shoulda _seen_ him! There was this guy and he was gonna knife Lawrence, you know? But Lawrence just—! And his cutlass—! _Woosh!_"

"What?" asked Twyblade sharply. I felt a chill go down my back at his tone; it was so controlled, yet terrible with fury. Tresa wasn't any more immune to it than I. She checked herself quickly.

"Oh, but nothing _happened_ Cap'n," she said, putting an odd inflection on the word. Twyblade continued to glare at her, and she shrunk away to stand silently behind the other crewmembers. The Captain turned to me.

"What happened, Lawrence?" he asked. I was a bit confused at his concern.

"One of the pirates was hiding, and he rushed me. But I killed him before he could touch me," I replied.

"That's all?" Twyblade pressed. I nodded. A little of the tension seemed to leave the captain then, and he turned to address the entire crew.

"Alright, well, we've gotten everything of value onto the _Windsoul_, so let's get back on track," he gestured for everyone to return to our own ship. A plank had been affixed to create a more stable bridge between the two ships, to make moving some of the larger items to the _Windsoul_ easier, so we all just had to walk across. The two ships were steady and sky was calm, so the venture was easy and just about devoid of all danger. Like walking on solid ground, but for the sight of the clouds far below on either side.

Meshin was the last to cross, and when he was aboard, he told the captain: "She's all rigged up; we have five minutes to get as away far as possible before she blows."

Kender and Galen hauled the plank over the railing, and started to detach the ropes binding the two ships. The task was completed quickly.

_'We're going to blow up the Black Pirate ship?'_ I thought. The _Windsoul _was already angling away from it; Wanthope evidently was up at the helm.

"Good," replied Twyblade, "thank you, Meshin."

He raised his voice so that everybody could hear him, clapping his hands together, "Right! Let's get back to our places now. Tresa, bring that bag with the items you and Lawrence scavenged to my quarters, please."

"Yessir, Cap'n!"

"Lawrence?" The captain said. I looked at him, "Please go relieve Wanthope from the helm, and tell him I want everything we've taken on inventoried."

"Aye." The twins, Meshin, and Landric had already gone below to their respective stations, and Tresa was just disappearing through the door with the sack of treasure tossed over her back. Twyblade gave me a nod, turning his back and walking off.

I paused a moment, looking back at the ship we were leaving behind. It would explode soon. It really was a pity that we didn't have a large crew, otherwise we would have been able to split into two crews and had both ships. As a sailor, I hated to see a serviceable craft be thrown away like that, and as a pirate I hated to see something as potentially profitable as a ship go to waste. Selling it or using it, a ship would definitely bring in a bit of gold…

We hadn't gotten too far away, and I could see the ship clearly. Before, I hadn't really taken note of the craft itself, being preoccupied with what was inside. This time, I really _looked_ at the ship. And realized that it had no sails.

_'What the…?'_ The same unease I had felt on the Ixa'takan island returned, ten-fold. Ships had sails, obviously, unless they were powered by something other than wind, like the _Delphinus_. This one had masts, though, and was obviously wind-powered. It didn't make sense that it wouldn't have sails, especially if Twayblade had said it had sailed up to us, intending to attack. It wouldn't have been able to move. And Black Pirate ships always had black sails. Always. _'What's going on here?'_

There was a flash of light and flame as whatever Meshin had planted on the ship went off, and it sunk quickly. I watched until it had dropped from sight, as I tried to think if it had had sails earlier. My eyes widened. _'I never saw the ship until it was all over and Galen came to get me from the gun deck. Come to think of it, I didn't see any of the crew except that one man who attacked me, and then Twyblade was very upset that that had happened… And, come to think of it, I… had a strange feeling about that ship…'_

I remember that Twyblade had ordered me to the bridge, and hurriedly started walking.

_'There's something going on, and I'm not in on the secret…'_ I felt slightly nauseous with the disquiet that thought brought with it. I wouldn't allow myself to acknowledge the thought that followed that line. I didn't want to contemplate the idea that, perhaps, Twyblade was lying to me.

* * *

**Chapter Six**

* * *

Both Twyblade and Wanthope were waiting for me when I arrived on the bridge. I paused a moment when I saw them. _'Uh-oh…'_

I walked straight up to them, however, keeping a stoic bearing. I was late, and deserved punishment for it. I knew this, and I accepted it. Wanthope was frowning, but Twyblade had no expression whatsoever on his face. I didn't think that was a good sign.

"Lawrence," he said, his tone just as bleak as his expression, "you are late."

"I'm sorry sir, there's no excuse for it," I replied, fixing my eyes on a spot somewhere beyond his right ear. There was a pause as Wanthope looked at Twyblade and Twyblade looked at me.

"When I give you an order and you hear me, I expect you to obey quickly, not at your leisure. Do you understand?"

"Aye Captain."

"Good." There was another pause as Twyblade stared at my face before saying, "I'd like to speak with you in my quarters. Wanthope, take the helm for a while longer."

I felt vaguely uncomfortable at this, wondering just how dead the Captain was planning on making me. As a newcomer to his ship, I sure wasn't making a very good account of myself. Already I had one crewmember set against me, and now I had angered the Captain.

I followed Twyblade silently through the door at the back of the bridge. There was a desk in the adjoined room, and I stood before it as Twyblade wandered around to the other side, taking his time. He did not speak for a while, staring out the porthole set in the wall behind the desk. I glanced around the room, taking in the scattered papers, piled books, and eclectic odds and ends that dominated every even surface available. A gold astrolabe winked at me from under a paper titled 'Rumores and Mythes of Arcadea.' My eyebrows lifted a bit at the archaic spelling, but my attention was yanked back to Twyblade as he finally spoke.

"You are an intelligent man, Lawrence, so I won't insult you by thinking you have not noticed this yourself. Piracy is fast becoming a dead profession- or, at least, the Blue Rogues are dying out." Here he paused, as if waiting for my comment. I merely nodded tersely. Yes, I had noticed. I was probably hurting the most out of the two of us. Twyblade continued:

"There are a lot of Rogues wondering what they'll do when the skies can no longer support them. Obviously the Black Pirates will be able to last a bit longer, as they have no qualms about attacking Valuan vessels, but the Empire is slowly eliminating the threat. The Blue Rogues already lost a large target in the Valuan Empire; what will happen when we lose our prey of the Black Pirates?"

Twyblade sighed, turning around and sitting at his desk. "I am responsible for my crew. I chose them for their individual abilities, abilities that don't have much calling in the world Arcadia is becoming. They will be looked down upon as ruffians by others, discarded as untrustworthy. I cannot allow this to happen. Even now, I am striving to make a future for them, as is my duty as their Captain and leader."

_'How… noble,'_ I thought dryly. _'I wonder if I'm included in on whatever benefits he scrapes up. There was nothing of this in our deal…'_

"However, I need the help of my crew to attain that goal. I'll need their help… and yours," Twyblade looked up at me for the first time during his little speech, putting his hands on his desk and leaning forward a fraction of an inch.

"My help?" I repeated, a note of doubt creeping into my voice. Twyblade stood abruptly, striding over to a wall of bookshelves. He pulled out a roll of paper—a map?

"Do you know how many of the Purple Civilization survived the Rains?" He asked. I blinked at the seemingly random question.

"I had thought the entire race had been destroyed…"

"No," the Captain shook his head, "the homelands of the Purple Civilization were completely destroyed, and all the people there killed, but a handful of Purple citizens were not in the Lands of Ice during the catastrophe. They had been travelers, explorers of a sort, and had managed to escape the annihilation of their civilization by virtue of this. Somehow, on whatever islands they were on at the time, they had managed to survive the Rains that shattered the world, along with the survivors from whom all Arcadians today are descended."

I was able to wonder briefly why Twyblade was telling me this before he unrolled the paper in his hands with a flick of his wrist, slapping it down on his desk in the same motion. I caught a glimpse of something that looked like a diagram or a web of some sort, but didn't have a very good view from where I stood.

"My plan hinges on a forgotten treasure of the Purple Civilization, but none can claim it but one of its citizens. Meshin possesses a very small fraction of this heritage, but you, Lawrence… It runs so much stronger in your blood."

To say I was surprised would have been an understatement. But I felt my astonishment melt quickly away into skepticism.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, "How is it that you know this, when I myself did not?"

Twyblade gestured at the paper spread across his desk, and I took a step forward to look at it more closely.

It was written in some language I could not recognize, but it was indisputably a genealogy. It seemed to go back for an impressive number of generations. I glanced up at the Captain.

"The language of the Purple Civilization was nearly lost to time," he said quietly, "but some few documents remained, and I was able to decipher this paper.

"Callaech der Zwal." He pointed to one of the top names, then slid his finger down, speaking a name here and there. "Yvenne vorth Kiir… Sborje der Zwal… Sborje der Gurt… Hesta vorth Crost… Danth der Blut… Hans der Blut… Paul der Blut… Lawrence."

He kept his finger on the last name, and looked up at me. "The blood has thinned, it is true, but you are still a descendent of the Purple Civilization."

I had gone very still when he had named first my grandfather, then my father, and finally myself. Up until then, I had still believed it to be some mistake. I slowly pointed to the name that was connected to my father's by a thin line of ink. "What does that say?"

"Meyrin Hallis."

I leaned back, carefully keeping my emotions from showing in my expression. It was my mother's name. The paper contained the names of my mother, father, and grandfather. That was a bit too much to be coincidence, but it also may have simply been contrived. Who had kept this record?

"Forgive me if I don't immediately accept this paper as the end-all-be-all," I said, "But I wonder as to its dependability. Where did you get it?"

"It had been handed down in your father's family for generations, until it came to your great grandfather. He left it in the care of a scholar who kept his records, even after your great grandfather died, the scholar held onto the papers. I had the great fortune of coming across it in my search for information on the forgotten treasure of the civilization."

"Yes… that treasure…" I muttered. Twyblade discerned the question in the words, and explained.

"I heard of the treasure several months ago, during a stay in Esperanza. It captured my interest, and I pursued any of its rumors or tales of which I caught wind. That was when I discovered Meshin's heritage, and the necessity of such a heritage to claim the treasure."

"And you weren't sure if Meshin's heritage would be great enough to secure the treasure, and so you went looking for other Purple descendents," I guessed. Twyblade nodded, his eyes alight with determination.

"But I am sure that you could easily claim it, and that is why I am asking for your help."

It explained a little Meshin's animosity toward me; he probably felt slighted, as if his captain thought him as useless. I was silent for a moment. "What is the treasure?"

"Ah…" Twyblade said, and chuckled, "It is a thing which all the records speak of very cryptically, but I have reason to believe that it could fulfill my goals."

"Uh huh… And what's in it for me?" I folded my arms calmly, looking at Twyblade directly. "There was no mention of this in our earlier agreement."

"If you help us," Twyblade said, his passion for the quest bleeding into every word, "You could live like a king."

I admit: this declaration sent a lance of greed through me. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to lay my hands on that treasure, and I would have agreed to anything that would make what Twyblade said come true. But my skepticism and rational thought returned quickly, bringing down such feverish thoughts. I swept the genealogy before me once more with a quick glance.

"Well," I said, shrugging, "I suppose we will find out if I truly am a descendent of the Purple Civilization when we try to take the treasure."

Twyblade grinned, taking a step toward me to offer his hand to shake. I took it, gripping his hand firmly and jogging it up and down once, briskly, before letting go.

"I assume that our destination is then the Lands of Ice?" I inquired.

"It is. To be precise, we sail for the Ruins of Ice. You were there before, I understand?" Twyblade made his way toward the door, our meeting clearly over.

"Briefly," I allowed. "It's only accessible by sailing up under the continent. The _Windsoul _can take the pressures of the lower altitudes?"

"Of course." Twyblade gave me a sardonic look. "I've heard the legend of the voyage of the _Delphinus_ numerous times, and read at least three written accounts. They were the most recent instances of anyone venturing to the Ruins of Ice, and I wanted to know what my crew and I would be facing."

"I didn't mean to insinuate that I thought you were flying blind into what you didn't understand…" I said stiffly.

"Not at all; it was a prudent question. Now, if you could relieve Wanthope at the helm?"

* * *

Chapter Seven

* * *

The Ruins of Ice were not a very pleasant location. The low-hanging, dull clouds that obscured the sky made it so that it was never very bright under the Purple Moon, and they also ensured that the continent had a constant supply of snow. That snow fell in thick flakes, which clung to the bridge windows until the heat from the inside melted them away. Sailing in such weather was slow going, because apart from the snow, there were the icebergs. No matter how big they were, it was no easy task to spot a white mass of ice in a swirling white mass of snowfall. These things conspired to make the crew tense and waspish.

Of course, it didn't help that there was the inherent eerie feeling of a place where nearly an entire civilization met a rather unpleasant end.

Finding the Ruins was simple enough; having been there before I remembered where the sub-continental port was, and managed to negotiate a course that ran under the landmass for most of the way, providing a natural snow-shade. Without the sloppy stuff fouling up the windows, I was able to sail a bit faster than the crawl the weather had necessitated before.

Once the ship was secured in its moorings at the port, I went down to the deck, rearranging my thick coat so it didn't gape open at my throat, and flicking the collar up to protect the back of my neck. It might not have been snowing under the continent, but there was the ever-present wind of the lower altitudes to contend with. I also checked my cutlass in its sheath at my hip, making sure I could draw it quickly and easily at need.

The wind blasted my face with a chill like a thousand knives, and I grimaced into it, eyes watering. Last time I was here, I hadn't left the ship. Now I was rather wishing I didn't have to. _'How did Aika and Fina manage? I'm feeling the bite of the Lands of Ice, and _my_ clothing is substantially more winter-friendly than either of theirs…'_

I sloughed my way through the few inches of snow that had accumulated on the _Windsoul_'s deck, and joined the four other huddled figures there. Twyblade turned to me.

"Landric, Tresa, and Kender are staying with the ship this time. The rest of us are going into the Ruins," he said, his breath billowing out in white clouds. I nodded.

"It should be warmer inside," I said, "The city will be somewhat insulated, being in the interior of the continent, and there won't be any wind."

"Right. Let's head in," he turned and quick-stepped down the boarding ramp, across the port, and into one of the doors set into the side of the continent, with the rest of us following with just as much haste.

As I had pointed out, it was much warmer inside than out. The city was dead, true, but even though it did not have the warmth life brought, the rock, ice, and snow that surrounded the city insulated it at least a little bit. It was still necessary to pull one's collar close around one's neck, but there wasn't as much of a bite to the air as outside, and no wind to speak of. We pressed on, Twyblade leading.

I took the opportunity to take a good look around, trying to assimilate all I could of the ruined city. The structures were all made of a purple-tinged ice-like substance—I couldn't tell if it actually _was _ice or not, and that made them of great interest to me. I wondered about how the city had been created… whether the great caverns through which we walked had been carved out by people, or had formed naturally. The ice-and-rock walls didn't bear any of the telltale marks of man-made tools, but that didn't count for much; they could have been smoothed away.

"This city was once known as Glacia," Twyblade said into the silence. He glanced around as we stopped at a fork in the pathway. "This way."

"Many of the buildings here are undamaged," I commented.

"Yes, we're far enough underground that the Rains of Destruction didn't crush the buildings. The fires and the gasses, however… they cleaned out all the life, even as the city itself was untouched." Twyblade would have continued, but there was a sudden chaos of motion and noise behind me as Wanthope cried out and Meshin grunted in surprise. Or maybe vice versa… Either way, I spun around with my cutlass drawn.

Wanthope was furiously trying to stave off two Scorflies that had apparently taken exception to his presence. Meshin had a pistol in his hand, but obviously hesitated to use it for fear of accidentally shooting the First Mate.

There was a swish of cloth and a rush of air by me as Twyblade lunged, his short sword slashing down in a bright green arch. He had infused the blade with a Green Moonstone, against which Purple creatures were weak. A Scorfly dropped, sliced in two.

By the time the body hit the ground, I had shaken my distraction and had finished off the second creature, stepping forward to spear the Scorfly's body with my cutlass. I withdrew my weapon from the corpse.

"To your right!" shouted Galen's voice somewhere behind me, and I reacted immediately, dropping and rolling to my left as something struck out at me. When I came back up, I was facing a half dozen Tsirats. The Tsirat that had lashed out at me fell back to rejoin its fellows, its leathery wings beating swiftly.

Another of the monsters darted forward to attack; I swung at it with my cutlass, but it dodged around the blade. It apparently decided I wasn't as prime a target as Wanthope, because it didn't come around to attack me from behind. Instead, it followed through with its dodge around me, heading for Twyblade's second-in-command. I felt rather relieved, actually, because another of the Tsirats came at me, aiming for my face. If the first monster had attacked from behind at the same time, I doubt I could have gotten them both before one wounded me.

As it was, I delivered a vicious slash to the Tsirat, sending it spinning off to the side with a gash in its abdomen that oozed a foul-looking ichor. It wasn't dead, however, for it spun off into Galen, striking him in the side. The wounded Tsirat managed to deal Galen a blow across the chest, spilling his blood. Galen gave a cry, falling back. I pounced, finishing off the Tsirat as it collapsed to the ground.

As I turned, prepared to engage the next monster, somebody shouted behind me.

"Moons! Heed my will!"

A green-tinged gas hissed into existence around each Tsirat as Twyblade used his Green Moonstone to cast Noxus. Almost in unison, the monsters swooned, shuddered, and died.

I wiped my cutlass blade clean on the leg of my breeches, and sheathed it. Twyblade looked down contemptuously on the corpses, spared a brief glance at Galen (who stood with one hand to the wound on his chest), and gestured.

"Let's continue on."

I glanced at Galen as well, before following the captain. His wound was not deep, though it bled messily because of its length. It looked bad, but it was not serious. We walked on.

Moments later, the group stopped at a fork in the path. The right-hand path seemed to lead deeper into the city, while the left disappeared around a jutting edge of stone, hugging the wall of the cavern. Wordlessly, we glanced at Twyblade. He looked briefly at each path before jerking his chin toward the left. As we started down that way, I noticed that the walkway, edged by the same strange material that formed the buildings, became narrower in front of us. We'd have to go single-file. Twyblade went first, of course, and I followed directly behind him as Meshin and Galen fell in behind me. Wanthope brought up the rear.

We walked silently, almost as if we feared disturbing the stillness of the city. It certainly didn't help with the disturbing feeling that drifted around the Ruins and lifted goose-flesh on those parts of you that weren't already prickling with the cold. I scowled and shrugged my coat closer around me, keeping one hand close to the hilt of my cutlass.

Rounding the bend in the path, I blinked in surprise as the walkway followed an incline up and turned into an enclosed corridor that cut through the solid stone of the continent's core. There were lights all along the length of the corridor, still shining even after all this time. They were encapsulated in chunks of ice that had been faceted so the light was amplified; obviously whatever was generating the lights did not also generate heat, or else the ice would have melted long ago. Whatever the source, the lights glittered coldly in the narrow corridor.

_'I hope nothing tries to attack us in here,'_ I thought grimly_, 'Especially from behind. I don't think we'd have much success in a battle in here. There's not enough room for us to maneuver very well.'_

The corridor wound its way on and on, occasionally branching off into offshoots, even more rarely bulging out into balconies that overlooked the city proper. We remained on the same path, never turning off onto any of the offshoots. I don't know exactly how long we walked, but just as I was beginning to tire of the monotony of it, the corridor suddenly opened up into a small cave.

I scanned the room quickly, seeing no immediate threats, and stepped out of the corridor into the center of the cave. There were runes carved into the floor, and long, looping designs. At the exact center there were three pedestals, and in the wall opposite the corridor entrance was a door. It was shut, and proved—as Twyblade gave the handle a tug—to be locked.

Meshin, Galen, Wanthope, and I spread ourselves out within the room, our eyes never still, constantly on the lookout for anything that may prove a threat. Twyblade crouched by the door, his nose inches from its carved surface. He rocked back on his heels and stood smoothly.

"It's a puzzle," he stated. "We just need to figure out what to do to get the door to open, and these runes and symbols are clues."

I cast a dubious eye over the tangled web of symbols, thinking sarcastically: _'Oh, sure. Piece of cake.'_

I walked around the room, eyes cast down to the carvings in the floor. The lines just meandered all over the place, without much of an order or apparent purpose. It didn't even seem that there was much of a pattern to the carvings; it all just seemed haphazard and nonsensical.

"Perhaps… These three re-occurring symbols? Are they a sort of password?" Twyblade murmured, his voice echoing slightly, overlaying the sound of everyone's footsteps. He moved away from the door, stepping up to one of the pedestals. Placing his hands on either side of its surface, he frowned down at it. I looked over his shoulder, seeing that the pedestal had four levers on it, each paired with a symbol that was etched above its respective lever. Three of the symbols were the same ones Twyblade had pointed out.

The captain pulled down one of the levers, an action accompanied by the harsh grating sound of old metal rubbing together. Not surprising, considering how old the levers were and how long they'd been sitting motionless. The levers on the other pedestals—identical to the first—made similar noises of tortured metal. Once the third lever was wrenched down into position, there was a rumbling of gears within the walls of the room.

A hidden door to one side dropped down, expelling a puff of dusty, stale air. With the air came a Cerosik, the animal's eyes glinting red with rage at being disturbed. It heaved its large body forward with a speed surprising for its girth. I heard Twyblade hiss a curse as he drew both his short sword and normal sword. I had my cutlass ready in the blink of an eye, watching the Cerosik warily.

Its head was weaving back and forth as if it were a snake. My eyes narrowed. It was almost as if it…

"Look out!" I shouted, throwing myself to the side just as the Cerosik unleashed the spell it had been conjuring. Fortunately, my crewmembers had swift reaction times, and braced themselves as the Crystalen spell coalesced. The Cerosik had been aiming for Galen, evidently, for the spike of ice called up by the spell lanced through the space he had been standing seconds earlier.

Before it could recover to launch another attack, we moved, _en masse_, against the beast. I leaped into the air, coming down hard with my cutlass on the Cerosik's torso. The animal was well protected, however, by its tough skin and the thick blubber that kept it warm in the snowy climate. My sword bit deep, but not deep enough.

"Lawrence!" shouted Twyblade from behind me. From the tone of his voice I could tell what he wanted; I rolled out of the way, and the captain came down with his two swords, aiming directly for the gash I had already laid open in the Cerosik's side.

The creature was bellowing, trying to avoid the blows, but Twyblade's aim was sure, and he sliced the wound open further. Bright blood splashed onto the floor, steaming in the chill of the room. Then Twyblade was darting out of the way, as Meshin darted forward, sighting down the barrel of his gun. As the Cerosik threw up its head in agony, Meshin fired. The shot hit the animal in the throat, but didn't kill it. I moved in for the kill, but underestimated the range and speed of the animal's heavy tail.

I huffed as the thick, muscular tail collided with my chest. The blow knocked me off my feet and sent me flying. Whatever breath was left in my lungs after the blow was smashed out of me as my back slammed into the wall. I gave a very undignified, breathless squeak as I tried to drag air back into my body, my head ringing. I was barely aware of Twyblade severing the Cerosik's spine with a slash to the back of the neck, so intent on regaining my breath was I.

Finally, slowly, I stood up, my lungs back in working order. I winced a bit at the soreness of my ribs, but was otherwise unhurt. I cleaned my cutlass (it had remained firmly in my hand; I had learned long ago to never drop a weapon) and sheathed it.

"I don't think that was the right password," I said wryly. Wanthope gave me a disapproving look. Did the man have _any_ sense of humor at all?

"No… I don't think it was…" Twyblade agreed, eyeing the pedestals. He messed around with the levers once more, pausing before pulling the third. He looked up at us, "Ready?"

We fingered our weapons, and Twyblade pulled the final lever. As before, there was a grumble of gears and levers from within the walls, and a second hidden door opened. This time, however, there was no irate Cerosik lumbering out at us. When the dust settled, we peered carefully inside the dim doorway. The compartment within was empty save for several heaps of bones. Whatever dangerous animal the ancient Purple Civilization had contained in there as a guard dog evidently hadn't weathered the long years very well. Curious, I went over to the door from which the Cerosik had come from. Looking in, I saw a scattering of bones on the floor—obviously the remains of weaker, more unlucky Cerosiks—and a jagged hole where one corner of the cell had collapsed.

How unlucky for us that that single Cerosik had outlasted its fellows—_'probably by cannibalizing the bodies, I shouldn't wonder'_—and that it happened to be in that chamber when we accidentally opened it. Judging by the light filtering through the hole in the back of the cell, the Cerosik could come and go from its confinement freely. Things certainly would have been easier had the Cerosik not been in the cell when the hidden door opened.

_'Oh well… Nobody was really injured anyway.'_ I turned back around. Twyblade was back at the door, scrutinizing the carvings in its surface. The others were running their hands carefully over the walls, trying to locate any other hidden doors.

I wandered over to the doorway that led to the corridor we had entered through. I sighed and leaned against the side of the doorway, my eyes falling on the floor and its designs. I folded my arms, idly tapping a finger on my elbow.

There were three pedestals, so a combination of three levers had to be chosen. But there were four levers to choose from. So there were something like 24 different possibilities… and that was assuming the same lever couldn't be pulled twice on different pedestals.

_'I don't know about the others…'_ I thought to myself as my gaze traced the lines on the floor, _'…but I'd rather not find out if all the traps and security mechanisms survived all these years or not. Better just be sure we've got the right combination before we go triggering any other hidden doors… or worse.'_

Then suddenly… I straightened, the realization hitting me like a lightning bolt.

"No," I said, my voice loud in the stone-and-ice room. "It's not a puzzle. It's a _maze._"

"What?" Meshin said. I made a gesture that encompassed the entire expanse of the floor, drawing everybody's attention down.

"Oh… you mean the lines in the floor are…" Galen said in sudden comprehension.

"Yes." I walked swiftly. "See, if I follow along with the markings in the floor… It ends up outlining a maze… a flat labyrinth. You can't get lost in it, but if you follow it…"

I walked as I spoke, and Twyblade caught on quickly. He hastened to the 'labyrinth's' start, and began walking the circuit.

"If you follow it, it will lead you to one of the three pedestals…" he said eagerly. I nodded, and paused in my walking to point at the floor. At my feet was inscribed a symbol.

"Right, and there are three paths in this maze, leading to each of the pedestals. Along the way, however…" I trailed off as Twyblade stopped in his tracks, staring down at the floor at his feet. I couldn't help the grin that grew on my face. "There are symbols that correspond with the symbols on the levers of the pedestals. One symbol for each path, one path for each pedestal."

"Brilliant…" said Twyblade, almost in a daze. "When we follow the paths, it shows us the right symbol and leads us to the pedestal the symbol belongs with."

Wanthope had started out on the maze, and as Twyblade finished speaking, the three of us each stood at a pedestal. We looked at each other, and then at the twins, who stood ready with their weapons, just in case.

"Ready?" Twyblade asked quietly. Wanthope and I gripped one of the levers on our pedestals and nodded. Twyblade settled his hand almost lovingly on one of the levers before him and said: "Right."

On cue, we pulled the levers at the same time. Then we paused, listening. For a moment, nothing happened, but then a low growling rumble, much deeper than before and quickly growing louder, grated out from beneath our feet. You could almost trace the sound as it traveled from the cluster of pedestals to the locked door and up into the walls around it.

The door moved. There was no mistaking it; the door shuddered once, and then began inexorably opening. All five of us approached the entrance slowly, weapons in hand, moving carefully through the doorway.

The room beyond the door was large, and lit by a single central source. There was a huge, suspended ice crystal in the middle of the room, surrounded by tables and what looked almost like the control consoles of a ship. The light shone from within the ice crystal, just like a larger version of the lights in the corridor.

But there was something different about this one. I froze just inside the doorway, staring in surprise at what else was contained within the ice.


	3. Chapter 8 thru 11

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

* * *

I fixed my gaze on the light, heedless of the discomfort the brilliance caused me. My eyes were beginning to tear, but I barely noticed.

There was a girl in the ice.

"What is this?" I gasped, completely astonished. The girl hung suspended in the middle of the massive crystalline form, the light emanating from all around her and illuminating the long tumble of purple hair that fell freely about her slender body. She was covered only by a length of white cloth wrapped bandage-like around her. The cloth was frayed with age and had begun to unwind from her, the ends floating motionless in the ice.

"Galen, Wanthope, please go back to the pedestal room and guard the entrance there. I'm sure the Glacian people did not stop at trap doors and caged monsters, and I don't want anything sneaking up on us," Twyblade said. He and Meshin didn't seem surprised. But then… maybe they had known what we would find.

He stepped up beside me, looking up at the girl as the others left quietly. Meshin hovered in my peripheral vision, watching, hand resting on his pistol. My mind couldn't seem to function properly and I just stood there mutely, unable to tear my eyes from the strange sight of the frozen girl.

"This is…" Twyblade breathed almost reverently, "the treasure that can save us all. This is the Purple Civilization's ultimate secret: their second Gigas."

"Second Gigas?" I repeated, looking sharply at Twyblade. He stared up at the girl, his expression drawing near to an adoration that was offset by the fierce gleam in his eyes. The look was oddly familiar, and I felt a pang of unease as I tried fruitlessly to remember where I'd seen it before.

"Yes… As you know, the giant Arcwhale that was the Gigas Plergoth had once been a living creature, a real Arcwhale…"

"You can't mean—!" I burst out, before swallowing the rest of my protest. _'No… no, I've seen what the ancients were capable of, what atrocities they had committed. It would be possible. I would not put it past them.'_

Twyblade gave me a wry glance.

"No, it's true. The Glacians tried to make another Gigas in the same way they created the first. You see, they didn't trust the other Civilizations and wanted a little 'extra insurance,' so to speak. Having two Gigas while the others each had only one would have made the Purple Civilization very powerful. Also, the sheer size of the first Gigas was a limiting factor; there was no missing its approach.

"The Glacians tried something new with their second attempt, using a human girl as the slate for their designs. They wanted a powerful weapon, but a weapon that could be hidden easily. She is…" Twyblade stepped forward and reached out to touch the ice crystal "…the product of their ambitions."

"But why is she sealed away like this?" I asked. The captain was silent a moment.

"Their conditioning and alterations did not take as well as they had hoped, and the state of the Gigas was slightly unstable. The documents I have managed to recover, the few that even mention the second Gigas, all list the experiment as failed. They sealed her away because she did not meet their expectations."

Having turned to watch Twyblade as he spoke, I looked back to the girl—the Gigas. I noted the expression on her face—her youthful face, as if those many years that had passed between then and now had never existed—and felt my brow furrow.

She did not look, as one might have expected, as if she were merely sleeping. She did not look peaceful. No; instead, her eyes were open wide, as if in surprise or fear. There was absolutely no color to her eyes, the pupil having expanded so far as to completely eclipse the iris—likely a result of her state. I blinked up at her. She looked like somebody betrayed, with that pitiable expression.

_'So then… why is he so interested in her? I mean, if she's as he says; a defective experiment…' _The thought did not sit well with me. I could not comprehend what sort of person it took to use a fellow human in such a way.

"Lawrence, come, let's decipher these instruments." Twyblade stood before one of the banks of controls, one of the ones that looked like it had come off the bridge of a ship, beckoning me with a hand.

"I probably won't be much of a help, sir. I'm completely unfamiliar with Glacian technology, or writing," I said. Nevertheless, I went to stand beside the captain, looking uncomprehendingly down at the array of levers, buttons, and dials.

"Hmmmm," was all the answer he gave. He moved over to another of the tables, searching intently for… something.

_'Maybe if I just start pressing buttons something will happen,'_ I joked with myself. I reached out a hand and brushed my fingers over the Glacian symbols on the controls. I snuck another glance up at the girl. _'She was… an experiment. Is she a girl, or a weapon? I wonder exactly what they did to her…'_

"Aha! I think I've found something," Twyblade exclaimed suddenly, wrenching me from my thoughts. He mumbled to himself a moment, bent over the controls before him so that his nose hovered scant inches from the surface of the table. Then he straightened, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Well. Lawrence, I'll need your help with this."

"What is it?" I asked, going over to him. The most prominent object on that bank of controls was a half-sphere made out of that nameless ice/rock material. There were deep channels carved into it, leading to a trough that ran the circumference where the hemisphere met the control panel.

"I think this is the keyhole," Twyblade answered. I eyed the half-sphere and its carved channels, beginning to feel a touch of suspicion.

"What's the key?" I thought I had a pretty good idea, but I asked anyway. Twyblade looked up at me with an apologetic expression.

"Give me your hand," he said. I hesitated, aware of Meshin drifting close behind me, but held out my left hand, palm up. Twyblade took it, and with a quick motion, sliced my flesh open with the dagger he was suddenly holding in one hand. Bright blood welled up instantly, but I only caught a glimpse of it as Twyblade slapped my bleeding palm down on the hemisphere. It had all happened so quickly, I didn't begin to feel the pain until then. It stung as if my hand were on fire, and I bit back the curse I wanted to spit at Twyblade

Watching my blood fill the channels and flow down to the trough, I worried a little about just how much he had cut me. I hoped that I would still have the use of the hand, that Twyblade hadn't severed the tendons.

A cracking, crunching sound reached me, and my head jerked up. There was a sizeable crack in the ice crystal, and, strangely, the light shone from it with blinding intensity. With a splintering _CRRCCKK_ the line spidered across the ice's surface, and the crystal shifted, leaning drunkenly to the side. More light spilled from the fracture, and I squinted until my eyes were nearly closed. There was a low groan from the crystal.

As a child, I had grown up on an island close enough to the Purple Moon that the lake near the outskirts of my hometown froze over in winter. We used to ice-skate on it when the ice was thick enough. In the interest of safety, every child in the town was taught the vital danger signs of weak ice. That groaning was not a good sound.

There was a jagged patch of ice still clinging to the ceiling where the crystal had been attached. A chunk of it separated, falling and shattering against the main body of the crystal. As if that impact had set off a chain reaction, the whole thing began to splinter, slabs and lumps of ice falling in an avalanche to the floor. The light became unbearable, and I took my hand from the hemisphere to throw both arms up in front of my face.

After a moment, the crunch and boom of falling ice ceased, and I hesitantly lowered my arms. I was literally breathless with surprise at the sight that greeted me. The girl lay on the floor, free of any hindrance. She stirred slightly, pushing herself up on her elbows, then drawing her legs up under her to a kneeling position. Her hair fell around her, obscuring her face.

"_G'varren schlossiv_…" her whimper floated weakly to my ears. Slowly, she lifted her head, her gaze falling first on Twyblade.

I could see her perfectly from my angle. Her eyes, the pupils having returned to normal, were a peculiar silver color. Upon seeing Meshin, she adopted a confused expression, as if she couldn't remember him, yet thought maybe that she should. She rose unsteadily to her feet and took a couple steps toward him.

I shifted slightly so I could see the captain a little better, rather than trying to watch him out of the corner of my eye. My tiny movement, however, caught the girl's attention. Her head snapped around to face me, those silver eyes lancing through me.

There was a split second in which all three of us froze, then the girl's eyes widened and recognition blossomed in her expression. Before I could even blink, she threw herself at me.

"_Evarisch!_" she cried. I just managed to catch her with one hand as she ran into me with her arms outstretched.

"What in the—?" I said, staring down at her. She turned her face up to mine and beamed at me, spouting something in that strange language of hers. Her arms hugged me around my middle. "Uh… Captain?"

The girl suddenly released me, before Twyblade responded to my plea. But she reached up to cup my face in both of her long, thin hands. Gently, she drew my head down. Bemused and uncomprehending, I let her touch my forehead to hers.

The next thing I was aware of was blinding pain, like somebody was driving a red-hot poker through my skull. The room with Twyblade and Meshin and the girl disappeared, replaced with flashed of my memories, my thoughts, and other images and ideas, which I did not recognize as my own.

_'It hurts! Make it stop! Please, please, MAKE IT STOP!'_

When I became aware of my surrounding again, I was on my hands and knees, and the girl was kneeling beside me with her arms wrapped around my shoulders. I was shaking, my limbs trembling with the reaction to that intense pain, and I was panting as if I had been screaming.

"Please stop screaming, Master Lawrence," said the girl in her soft voice.

"I'm not screaming," I protested between deep breaths, before realizing that she had spoken in the common tongue. I looked at her with wide eyes.

"No, stop in _here," _she said, tapping a finger to her temple.

"Y-you…" I started. A sudden smile broke across her face.

"Syf remembers teachings, and connected with the master," she said proudly.

"You… connected with me? What does that mean?" I whispered. My mind was reeling. My mind… Touching her forehead to mine! The memories that were not mine, yet were in my head! "You _connected your mind to MINE?"_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

I sat back on my heels, dizzied. My head was pounding, but I didn't pay much attention to the pain; I was too busy staring down at the girl. She had shifted with me, and was hugging my arm to her, head resting just below my shoulder.

What did she say? She'd done _what_ to me? I tried to make sense of it, but didn't get too far in comprehending anything, as I quickly realized that, perhaps, the pain was affecting me more than I had originally thought. I put one hand- the one the girl wasn't clinging to- to my head, grimacing.

"Captain!" The shout echoed in the chamber, sounding rather unnerved. I looked quickly to the door, where Galen stood. He seemed completely unaware of the girl hanging on me, and focused only on Twyblade with wide eyes. "Sir! Wanthope says that we should hurry! There is something coming!"

That statement cut through the muzziness of my mind more surely than anything else, and I looked sharply to Twyblade.

"What comes?" he demanded, taking a few steps forward. I blinked as I felt a tremor pass through me.

_'Am I… _shaking_?'_ I thought, with a rush of horrified disgust at the idea. Then I realized- _'No… no, it's the girl. She's shivering…'_

I stood, pulling her upright with me. I shucked my thick overcoat and wrapped it around her thin shoulders awkwardly. As I did so, I caught sight of Meshin, watching me with hate and jealousy burning in his yellow eyes. I met his glare with one of mine before tuning back into the conversation Galen was having with Twyblade.

"We don't know, but the whole antechamber is shaking with its approach," the twin said.

"Damn it!" Twyblade cursed lowly, his face twisted. He looked at me and barked, "Lawrence! Collect the Gigas and let's get out of here!"

I gave a curt nod before turning my face down to the girl at my side. She still clung to my arm, her face pressed into my sleeve. One of her hands had unwound from its death grip on my bicep and was clutching the collar of my greatcoat closed at her throat.

"Can you run?" I asked tersely, and at a barely perceptible nod, started forward. When she followed, I picked up my pace, and soon was running at a decent speed into the antechamber with the pedestals. Twyblade, Meshin, and Galen followed closely.

"Captain! Perhaps it would be wise to leave now!" shouted Wanthope. He stood at the entry of the antechamber, weapon drawn, looking with uncertainty at the shaking walls. The rhythmic _thump-thud_ of the tremors was indeed very like the footsteps of something large… and undoubtedly malevolent.

"Go, go! Back to the ship!" roared Twyblade. "I don't think we'll want to face this!"

"So do you know what it is?" I asked as I ran with the girl. She'd released my arm, but I kept a grip on her wrist with one hand while urging her along with an arm behind her back. She didn't speak at all, and didn't even so much as glance at the others. She kept her eyes downcast, and I wondered if she was even entirely cognizant.

The crystal lights in the walls of the long corridor flashed as we rushed by them, running full tilt. Yet, despite our speed, the footsteps seemed to be growing louder.

_'It must be coming up one of the branching paths,' _I thought, glancing down one as we passed. _'But none of them seemed particularly large… at least, not large enough to accommodate something that's as large-sounding as what's coming…'_

Almost on cue, the path before me opened up suddenly, and I skidded to a halt, breathing a little harder from my exertions. The others stopped behind me as well.

"What's wrong?" demanded Wanthope. "Why have we stopped?"

"There is a… widening of the corridor ahead that I don't recall from before," I replied. My eyes swept the area. "It looks like the walls retracted on some sort of rollers, probably triggered by our actions in the other chambers."

"Damn it, you're probably right," Twyblade grated as he shouldered his way to the front of the group. Quite abruptly, and rather belatedly, I realized something.

"The footsteps have stopped!" I said, my voice louder and sharper as I felt a shot of adrenaline bolt though my body.

"Look!" exclaimed Galen, his arm jerking out to point across the newly formed wide area. All of our heads—save the girl's, who still stared down—swiveled to look.

What met our gaze was something none of us wanted to see. There was a half-second of silence. Then Twyblade said in a preternaturally calm voice, like somebody who had just glimpsed his own death and was accepting it, "An Eliminator."

"What?" I said sharply. "Those are Silver creations! What would one be doing in Glacia?"

"The Glacians stole the idea from the Silvites." Wanthope replied flatly; he drew his pistols from their holsters and the rest of the group followed en suite, drawing their weapons in a ripple of glinting light. I brushed the girl behind me with a curt movement, drawing my cutlass one-handed.

The colossal magic-and-metal Eliminator took one ground-shaking step forward, a faint glow emanating from the rounded knobs that seemed to serve it for sensors. It was great, hulking brute of a thing, and I sifted through my memories for any hints or strategies Vyse might have divulged in his stories. I know he had faced at least one of these guardians…

Twyblade grunted with surprise behind me, but with my attention invested solely on the obvious threat before me, I didn't turn, and merely glanced back out of the corner of my eye instead. I nearly choked at the flash of purple that passed me, heading toward the Eliminator. The girl! What was she doing?

For some reason, I didn't move, even though a small voice at the back of my head was shouting furiously, _'Hey! That idiot girl is going to get herself killed! After all that trouble… Stop her, fool!'_

In fact, all of us seemed stunned motionless as the frail young woman walked slowly forward, each step slightly hesitant, as if she was unsure the ground was entirely stable. About halfway to the Eliminator, she stopped and stood. Girl and guardian stared.

Then one of her slim, pale hands rose in a gesture that seemed half like a greeting and half like a command to halt. One of the glowing knobs on the Eliminator flared to life, sweeping from side to side; a scanner.

For a moment, I could have sworn I heard a whispering in the back of my mind.

There was a low humming, a creaking and a clattering, and the Eliminator sank where it stood. All its separate parts seemed to compress as it settled to the floor, the glow about its surface fading.

_'It's shutting itself down,' _I realized, with some surprise. Ignoring the dull pounding in my temples, I switched my gaze back to the girl, who stood with her hand upraised still. Slowly, carefully, she lowered it to her side… and toppled.

Without knowing what I was doing, I was sprinting forward to catch her. My cutlass was sheathed, but I had no memory of doing so. I think I was the most surprised out of the whole group by my actions, and I stood there a moment and stared mutely down at the face of the now-unconscious girl in my arms.

"You'll have to carry her back," said Twyblade beside me. Somehow managing to reforge my impassive demeanor, I quirked one eyebrow at him.

"I won't be able to fight, if that's case," I pointed out. Twyblade nodded.

"I know, but I don't think the need will arise—" he looked down at the girl "—as it appears she has deactivated whatever defense systems existed."

Well, that was true… I lifted the girl, one arm cradling her back, the other supporting her legs behind the knee. Her head lolled onto my shoulder. I spared a moment to appreciate the irony of the situation.

_'If Aika, Vyse, and the others were to see me now, they'd all probably have heart attacks. If I remember correctly, Aika dubbed me the 'Ice Man.' And now I'm spiriting away some girl in my arms, like a character out of some poorly written love ballad,'_ I internally grimaced. _'This incident must never be mentioned again.'_

At least the warmth of her body provided some buffer against the bitter chill of the outside of the continent, as we returned to the port and hurried up the ramp to the _Windsoul._ Since I had given her my greatcoat, I felt the temperature acutely, and even though my exposure to the harsh weather only lasted a few moments—the time it took to go from door to ship—the muscles of my shoulders and back had clenched with the cold by the time I'd gotten on board.

I stood just inside the doorway uncertainly, still holding the girl gingerly. What was I supposed to do with her now?

"Kender, Galen, go to the engine room and get her at full power. Wanthope, take the bridge for now, and send Tresa down to me," Twyblade whipped the orders out quickly, not even pausing as he entered the ship and walked down the corridor. Over his shoulder he said to me: "Bring her this way, Lawrence."

He led me through the ship, past the galley, storage rooms, and crew quarters. The captain paused in front of a door some ways down from the room where I bunked down, turning around to motion me through the entrance before him.

The room seemed to be the sick bay of the ship; there were two narrow beds set up against one wall, and several sets of cabinets lined another. Without any prompting, I laid the girl down on one bed. She sighed and settled against the soft pillow, hugging my greatcoat around her shoulders. _'Guess I won't be getting _that_ back anytime soon…'_

"Cap'n?" questioned Tresa's voice from the doorway. I turned. "Wanthope said you asked for me?"

"I did. Gather a set of clothing that will fit this girl, would you?" Twyblade said, as I noted with interest that Tresa didn't seem at all surprised at the presence of the girl.

_'Come to think of it…'_ I thought slowly, _'None of the crew—save me—were surprised. I suppose Twyblade must have told them what he expected? But then, why didn't he tell me as well?'_

"…Lawrence." I jumped at the touch of Twyblade's hand on my shoulder; from his tone, it wasn't the first time he'd called my name. Tresa was gone, presumably to get the aforementioned clothes. I looked at Twyblade, silently berating myself for not paying attention to what was going on around me. Trying to get my eyes to focus on his face, I realized just how much my head was swimming.

"You are in poor condition as well; why don't you take the other bed," the captain said.

"I—"

"That's an order, and one you can't contest." Twyblade interrupted me firmly, forcefully directing me to the second bed. "I have no use for a crewman who can't focus."

"Yes sir." Skies above, did I sound _surly_? I must really be drained, if I was acting so childish. Sitting down on the bed, my exhaustion hit me like a ton of sand, and I managed the dim thought _'this thing's actually pretty comfortable…'_ before I was out like a light.

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

* * *

My sleep was not restful; I slept deeply for perhaps an hour or two before the dreams began. Dreams… I think that I could—no, _should_—call them nightmares. Dreams have the potential of being pleasant, but what my chaotic mind churned up that night was a far cry from even being something I could wave off when I woke; these were the terrors of the dark recesses of the mind that could haunt you even in the waking world.

I dreamed of being in complete darkness, the kind that seems to press in on you until you can't breathe. I dreamed of cold metal cinched tight around my wrists, ankles, and throat. It was impossible for me to move at all, so I kept lying motionless in the darkness, while the chill of the hard surface under me seeped into my body. Then unexpectedly, I spasmed violently, muscles leaping out of control as the metal table I was on was electrified. As I trembled defenselessly in reaction, light suddenly flooded the room, tearing a second cry of pain from me as I winced and closed my eyes. Hands seized me, pulling me up, dragging me away. Then, with the trademark abruptness of dreams, I was in another room, on another table, only this time in bright light. Mostly what I was aware of there was intense pain. It felt as if somebody was raking my mind with metal claws, digging fiery channels of agony through my head. The flood of pain washed over my whole being until I was sure I would die…

When I woke, I woke to a pitiful keening sound. It was the girl, the Purple Gigas. She cowered in the corner of the room, trembling and weeping into her hands. She was rocking back and forth on her haunches, slowly.

"What—?" I started to ask her what was wrong, reaching out a hand, but I was interrupted when the door to the sick bay opened. My hand dropped and the girl stopped keening. I looked back and forth between her and Twyblade, who stood in the doorway.

"Both of you are awake? Good," he said, moving a little further into the room. Tresa peeked her head over the captain's shoulder.

"Hey, now," she slid past Twyblade and went straight to the crouched girl. Hunkering down next to her, Tresa put an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Let's get you cleaned up and dressed, hey?"

Tresa helped the girl to stand, and the two of them walked out of the room, pausing as Tresa picked up a neatly folded stack of clothing I hadn't noticed till then from the table near the door. Twyblade and I watched silently as they left, Tresa murmuring quietly to the girl. Once they were gone, I switched all my attention to Twyblade.

"With all due respect, Captain, what the hell is going on?" A slow tendril of rage was beginning to curl around my heart. I had not been warned about any of this, and to judge from Twyblade's lack of reaction, he had anticipated it all.

"Well…" he said slowly, leaning against the wall, "What do you think happened?"

"I think I was deliberately misled, that vital information was kept from me, and that I'm now irrevocably ensnared in something I don't know that much about." I said bluntly.

"You're right, I did mislead you." Twyblade admitted easily. He leaned forward, his face earnest. "But I didn't think you'd agree to this if you hade known the complete truth about it; you are well know as being a loner, and doubtless would have refused to be bound to the Gigas in the necessary way. We _need_ you, Lawrence. For my dreams for my crew to be realized, I need you to do this."

"Are you saying that I'm the only one who could be… 'bound'?" I asked, frowning. "And what exactly do you mean by 'bound'?"

"You _are_ the only one," Twyblade replied sincerely. "The Gigas will only bind itself to the highest ranking Glacian."

"Highest ranking?" I interrupted, slightly confused. How could I be the highest ranking in a civilization that, number one: didn't exist any longer and, number two: I'd never really been a part of?

"The Glacians had a class based society, much like the one in old Valua. Positions of power and higher offices went to noble families. The older and more established families got more power, and were higher ranking. Your family preserved their bloodlines, and thus this heritage, more purely than any other after the Rains. Thus, you are the highest ranking person of Glacian descent alive today."

"So… what you're saying is… my family had power in ancient Glacia, and managed to keep this power through choice breeding?" I asked dryly. Twyblade quirked an eyebrow.

"Not exactly. Your family may have had no power whatsoever in ancient Glacia. They were simply the most powerful family that _survived_," he replied.

"Ah." I paused a moment to assimilate that information. Then; "What about this binding?"

"I think you already have an idea of what it means," the captain said calmly. My eyebrows drew together. I did have a thought or too, but…

"She… linked our minds somehow?" I hazarded.

"She forged a telepathic link between your minds, yes." Twyblade nodded. I shook my head in disbelief. I would almost reject the idea out-of-hand… almost. But when she touched her forehead to mine, I had… seen things. Heard thoughts that weren't mine.

_'And she told me 'stop screaming,' but I wasn't… out loud,'_ I recalled.

"But… why?" I muttered, not really meaning to be heard. But Twyblade caught it, and answered anyway.

"That link is what allows you to control her. Rather than using a Moon Crystal like the other Gigas, the key to using this one is the power of your bloodline and your telepathic link." He was interrupted by the return of Tresa and the girl. He cleared his throat. "But beyond that, I have no knowledge of the nature of the matter."

I was bit irritated to not have all my questions answered, but I was also somewhat relieved. This was really too much. _'All I want is a bag of gold on my belt and the wheel of a ship in my hands. Fate has a cruel sense of humor.'_

I could feel the beginnings of a headache in my temples.

_'Why? Not just 'why me' but also why everything else? Why link minds?' _I wondered. _'If our minds are linked, does that mean I can hear her thoughts, and she mine?'_

A sudden thought struck me. _'If that's the case, then do we share dreams, too? Was she experiencing the same nightmare as I, and was that why she was crying? And… whose dream was it to begin with?'_

"I don't like remembering." I jumped, startled, as the girl spoke unexpectedly. I looked down at her as she sat on the floor at my feet. I realized also that Twyblade and Tresa were gone, having left as I lost myself in my thoughts.

The girl looked much different, clad in typical Air Pirate attire with her long purple hair braided and wound around her head like a crown. There was also something else that had changed about her, though it took me a moment to realize what it was.

Her speech had improved, in both grammar and pronunciation. She no longer sounded like a child, and I even said as much: "You sound better."

"I'm learning," she replied solemnly, "from you."

The inflection in her voice made it plain that the remark really meant 'using the link, I'm taking the words from your mind.' Discomfited, I merely grunted in answer.

_'Twyblade… I'm of half a mind to throttle you for this.'_ I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. _'Right, okay, so you say I'm the only one who could do this. So you say 'I need your help.' So what? Maybe if you'd _explained_ everything to me, and offered me more gold, I would have agreed to help you out. Maybe. But there was no need to trick me into it.'_

My eyes flew open as hands gently touched my face. The girl stroked my forehead, brushing away the strands of hair that flopped into my eyes and smoothing away the… pain. What?

"Are you… using Sacri on me?" I asked. There was a slight glimmer of green on her hands as she drew them away.

"You should not be in pain," she said, with a bright, innocent smile. I turned away.

Even though I had not gotten nearly enough rest, I didn't want to sleep any longer. What I wanted most then was food. My stomach rumbled insistently. I stood.

"What is your name, girl?" I asked gruffly.

"Syf," she replied.

_'Oh, that's right… She called herself that before, when she was still speaking in the third person,'_ I stooped to pick up my great cloak from where it lay crumpled on the floor. Shaking it out, I eyed it, decided it was clean enough, and shrugged it on.

"Are you hungry, Syf?" I surprised myself once more as I offered a hand to help her up. "I'm going to the galley. If you want to eat, follow me."

I walked out of the sick bay and down the corridor without waiting for an answer or looking to see if she was behind me. However, it was on her that my thoughts dwelt.

_'She seems so benign and naïve; could she really be a weapon? A Gigas?' _I gave my head an imperceptible shake, and focused on the mouth-watering smell that drifted from the galley. Landric was almost as good a cook as Polly. He'd never be able to beat Urala, though.

Thinking about the Yafutoman girl's _nigiri-zushi_ elicited another low rumble from my stomach. I paused at the door to the galley and glanced back. Syf stopped beside me, and watched me, waiting and ready to follow. I felt a distant turn of unease in my heart at the expression in her eyes. It was the look of complete trust.

I dismissed the feeling as merely imagined, and led the way into the galley.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

* * *

Sleeping for Moons-only-knew-how-many years evidently had a profound effect on one's appetite. Syf single-handedly managed to pack away three bowls of skilly'n'duff, a loaf of ship bread, and a quarter of a Sky Sardis potpie. Not to mention the seven tankards of tea she downed, as I tried not to stare. For my part, I polished off a hefty helping of skilly'n'duff, washing it down with a tankard of loqua. I felt I needed the fire of the drink to warm me up; the slight numbing effect was just a bonus.

Though I had gone into the galley ravenous, I didn't eat near as much as I had initially thought I would. I think it was because… well, Syf ate so much, and her feelings of satiation trickled down our link, I suppose. I could feel her contented murmuring in the back of my head, and that made me uneasy (which probably didn't help with my appetite either, I'd wager). Of course, I could just be overreacting and blaming everything on the link, now that I was hyper-aware of its existence. Maybe I just wasn't as hungry as I thought… Maybe.

I watched as Syf drank her tea with alacrity, her eyes closed and head tipped back. She gave a small sigh as she set the empty tankard down. Her eyes, when she opened them, were drowsy slits, and a thin smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"Have you had enough?" I asked blandly, resisting the urge to add a sarcastic comment to the question. I might as well have not tried, because Syf obviously picked up on my thoughts through the link, and looked down in shame.

"I have not eaten… in a long time," she whispered. I felt a flash of guilt and remorse at having hurt her, but quickly choked off the emotion. She could and did pick up everything through our link; I didn't like having my feelings thus bared to anyone.

_'Dammit,'_ I thought, noticing that she was looking up at me through her eyelashes with slight surprise. _'I suppose I'll have to get used to sharing every nuance of emotion and every thought with her… it's not like I can escape it.'_

_ 'Evarisch…'_ the thought sounded like her voice, only echoing in my head. I jumped involuntarily. It was the first direct manifestation of the link, and it unsettled me greatly. But I forgot my discomfort instantly when I realized how anguished and worried she sounded. _'Have I displeased you?'_

"What? I- no. No…" I frowned at the tabletop and ran a hand through my hair. "I'm simply… unused to this. The link and the… having you in my head."

"But… I am following the teachings…" she said, brow knitting in confusion. I looked her in the eye.

"You must know… You can see it in my mind… how nobody living really knows or remembers those teachings, or that they ever existed."

"Yes…" she said slowly, her focus turning inward.

_'Well, at least I don't have to waste time explaining everything… She can just lift it from my mind. Though that's—'_ Syf's unnaturally sharp ears caught it first, and the information transferred to me faster than lightning. I was on my feet and suddenly very awake and alert as somebody rushed into the galley.

"We're being tailed," announced Twyblade, his eyes snapping with energy.

"Do we know by who?" I asked, barely aware of Syf standing and coming to stand at my side.

"Black Pirates," the captain replied tersely.

_'What, again?'_ I thought. Twyblade turned and hurried out of the galley, motioning for me to follow. _'Maybe they were allies with the other ship we sank, and are looking for revenge?'_

I ignored the fact that Black Pirate ships didn't normally form alliances, and decided that that was probably the case. I quick-stepped along with the captain, heading for the deck.

"They must have followed us to the Ruins, remaining hidden by the weather, and decided to let us go through the trouble of gathering any treasure before relieving us of it," Twyblade said grimly. "But never mind how they came to find us; they have us in their sights, and we must attack first, before they can hit us."

"That doesn't give us much time, does it?" I asked doubtfully.

"No. It doesn't." Twyblade paused by a small wooden bock that was hung on the wall. He opened it to reveal a mouthpiece and control for the ship's intercom.

"Meshin! I need you to prepare the cannons for a ship battle. Wanthope, stay at the helm. Tresa, assist Meshin. Kender, Galen, get down to the engine room," Twyblade fired the orders off rapidly, jammed the mouthpiece back onto its cradle, and shut the box. To me directly he said, "You're with me on the deck. Bring the Gigas."

_'He's not going to…'_ I cut the thought off, swallowing. We stepped out on deck, and I immediately saw the ship that had been tailing us. It was off our port side, and closing the distance between us quickly. Twyblade swore.

"They're closer than I anticipated. Lawrence! Now is the time! Use the Gigas to destroy our enemies!" He spun to face me, his eyes wild and yet steely. I was taken aback for the space of a breath.

"What? But—" I said. Syf edged closer to my shadow, almost as if she feared Twyblade. I was somewhat bewildered, caught off-guard. A part of my brain screamed at me: _'What are you doing?! The Black Pirates will close with you in mere moments! You don't have time to hesitate!'_

Yet, there I was, oddly unwilling to attack. I also was at a loss as to _how_ I was supposed to go about doing so. Twyblade was shouting at me, and apart from my reticence, I had Syf's fear and unease at the captain's raised voice jumbling my thoughts. For a moment, I was dizzy and confused, and felt as if the world was spinning about me. Everything blurred together and I could not form a coherent thought.

The other ship must have fired their cannons, because I remember hearing the _whump!_ sound of a distant explosion, followed closely by a great shattering, splintering crash as the cannonball tore through the _Windsoul's _foremast and into the deck. The wood exploded up in a hail of shrapnel.

The shock when the foot-long spear of jagged wood slammed into my shoulder jolted me out of my near dementia. I gasped and staggered back a step. Oddly, there was no pain. My body simply went instantly numb, and my mind went preternaturally still and clear. Then came the rage. I lost all power of rationalization as the fury at having been hurt boiled up from within me; I became primitive and instinctual, wanting only to lash out at whatever had hurt me.

_'How DARE they?' _My thoughts thundered. I was dimly aware that I was growling, hunching over with one hand gripping the blood-slicked wood. _'HOW DARE THEY SPILL OUR BLOOD?'_

There was a shriek that sounded like it had been torn for some inhuman throat, and suddenly, my consciousness was catapulted out of my body and toward the ship that had shot the cannonball. Bereft of my body, my mind was free of the blinding fury; or rather, it could feel and recognize the rage, but was not ruled by it. However, though I knew the anger, I also knew that it was not mine. It was not just my consciousness that had arrowed toward our attackers. Syf's mind was actually what had flung itself toward the ship, pulling mine along for the ride; the anger was hers, but I was the cause… With my mind free of any hindering emotion, I saw it clearly. When I had been hurt, and my anger had overwhelmed me, it had also overwhelmed _her_ through our link. She felt my fury, and it became her own. Of course the Glacians would have included a protective impulse in their Gigas, to ensure the survival of the controller of the weapon. With me hurt, Syf would destroy anything that threated us, and I was powerless to stop her.

Our combined minds shot across the sky between the two ships like a lightning bolt, entering the other ship through a porthole. We flashed through cabins, past crewmen, down corridors, and into the bridge. There: a helmsman, there: the skipper… their faces were pale blurs with the speed of our passing. Straight toward the captain in his chair we winged, aimed at the space between his brows. Closer and closer, until—just before touching—he somehow perceived us, and his expression grew terrified. The ship, the bridge, his face… they flashed through my mind, and I…

_'NO!'_ I cried, but it was too late. I knew a moment of surging wrath, of erupting flames, and a gut-wrenching pleasure at causing pain… then, like a Huskra on a leash, I was jerked back to my body on the _Windsoul_.

I gagged, and coughed, spattering the deck with blood. I opened my eyes to find myself on my knees, and lifted my gaze to look over the railing. All that remained of the other ship was a burning hulk, of which only the keel was recognizable as having actually come from a ship. It sank quickly, breaking into flaming bits and pieces as it went.

_'No.'_ My mind was stuck on the word; I couldn't get past the simple-minded denial to the thought that would inevitably follow it, after having seen what I had seen. The wooden spar was still in my shoulder, and I pulled it out thoughtlessly. My whole body convulsed with the effort and the resultant pain, and more of my blood splattered onto the deck in large drops. I staggered to my feet. _'No.'_

There was a whimper behind me, and I suddenly realized that Syf had thrown her arms around my waist from behind, pressing her face into my back. I could feel her shaking, and knew she was weeping.

"Please, please, never again! Don't make me! Not again!" She sobbed the words with body and mind, her voice muffled by my greatcoat. That cleared my mind better than anything else, lifting the fog of pain a little. I twisted, disengaging her arms from around me so that I could gather her in my own. She buried her face in my chest, heedless of the blood.

I knew then I wouldn't. I knew that I would never force her to become that thing of terrible anger and power. I wouldn't manipulate her like a soulless tool, as if she were just another Gigas to be controlled and used. I could feel what it did to her, even though at that moment I still would not admit it to myself.

However, it was not only that one concern that weighed on me. There was also the fact that I could no longer place any trust in Captain Twyblade. That ship, now lost beneath the clouds of Deep Sky, had not borne black sails, nor a black flag. He had named it a Black Pirate craft, but I knew it now to be a lie. I had been on the ship, after a fashion, and I had seen it. In that moment when the captain of the doomed ship had realized he was staring death in the face, I had seen it, hung on the wall behind the captain's chair: a Blue Rogue flag. A Blue Rogue flag… white sails… it was impossible for anyone to mistake these things for Black Pirates'. Twyblade had lied, and so everything he had said up till then must have been either lie or only half-truth. I was a pawn in his game.

_'No,'_ I flared, the word feeling much different from the previous dull repetitions. This time it had weight; my will was steeled behind it. _'I refuse to play this part!'_

I wanted answers, straight answers and truthful answers this time! I wanted to know exactly what was going on in Twyblade's head! What was that damned man thinking?

Abruptly, I realized that Syf was sagging in my arms, unconscious. And I realized also that the warm trickle of blood down my side had halted. I looked at my shoulder, where the wound was covered by Syf's thin hand. I shifted, and the hand fell away, revealing a ragged hole in my shirt and smooth, unbroken skin beneath. I felt a peculiar twisting in my heart. Even in her distress, she had remembered to heal me.

Awareness of the rest of world retuned then, and I looked up around me with blurring vision. I swayed, feeling drained. I had to blink several times before the sight of the entire crew of the _Windsoul_ swam into focus.

They stared at me, and at the girl hanging limp in my arms. There was fear in their faces, yes… but some other emotion shone in their eyes, something disturbingly close to greed. It made me faintly nauseous, and, although I was on my last dregs of energy, I scooped Syf up and went below decks, away from the stares.


	4. Chapter 12 thru 15

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

* * *

I carried Syf back to the sick bay, my shoulder screaming at me with each step. It was beginning to get stiff, and it ached sharply as I tried to move it. I did my best to ignore the pain. My growing anger towards Twyblade, and the situation he'd put me in, helped to distract me.

_'He couldn't have possibly mistaken that ship for a Black Pirate vessel. A child would know the difference, and he's an experienced captain! What was he thinking, ordering me to destroy it?'_ I fumed silently as I laid Syf down on one of the beds. I looked down at her face, drawn and pale against the pillow, and felt a surge of anger that Twyblade had wanted me to force her to become a weapon. _'She'd wept in my arms after destroying it… after my mindless fury made her destroy the ship…'_

With the thought came the puzzlement that mixed with my already-present anger. She was _meant_ to be a weapon; she was a Gigas. It was what the Glacians had created her to be, and so that was what she _should_ be… Right? But it was clear that she did not want to kill or destroy… It seemed that doing so tormented her.

_'Wait,'_ I suddenly recalled Twyblade's words, _'he said she'd been labeled as a failed experiment. Twyblade'd said that the records spoke of the Gigas as being 'unstable.' Did that mean… that they made her _able _to kill, but not _willing _to?'_

The door to the sick bay opened, and Twyblade himself walked in. Unfortunately for him, my anger had not yet cooled. I charged him, and slammed him against the wall in an eyeblink. He didn't resist, or try to evade.

"What the hell are you playing at?" I demanded in a growl. The captain of the _Windsoul_ looked me in the face serenely, seemingly unconcerned by my hands at his throat.

"I don't think I'm your enemy, Lawrence." How could he be so _calm_, dammit? I had just sunk an entire ship of fellow Blue Rogues!

"No?" I spat, "Well, I doubt that the Rogues on that ship were my enemies either! Why did you tell me to sink their ship?"

Twyblade lifted an eyebrow. "Why _did_ you sink their ship? No, don't answer that; I know you lost control."

He sighed, and continued. "It saddens me, but it was necessary. They were going to interfere with our plans."

"So, your dream is what? To help make a niche for your crew by carving one out forcefully? To eliminate the competition?" I snarled, but he was shaking his head.

"No. No, when I said I wanted to help my crew make a future for themselves, I was perhaps understating my mission. If my plans are carried out, all pirates will benefit, not just my crew." Twyblade told me. My mind pessimistically dismissed the statement as foolish idealistic nonsense, but my grip loosened a bit from Twyblade's collar. He put a hand carefully on one of my wrists. "Put me down, and I will explain everything."

I stared at him suspiciously a moment before slowly relinquishing my hold on him. He cleared this throat, straightening his shirt and rubbing the back of his head where I'd caused it to strike the wall. I didn't feel the least bit remorseful, and folded my arms expectantly, waiting for my explanation.

"Well…" he said, gathering his thoughts. "The Golden Age of Piracy is fading, this you know well. Air pirates of all sorts are beginning to lose their ships and their livelihoods. I do not wish to see this happen to my crew, or really, any fellow pirate. So I've decided to take action and save our dying breed.

"Ever since the fall of the old Valua, the empire's ships have been labeled off-limits to Blue Rogues. This has proven to be a shot to the heart, because it has decreased the number of ships that exist for Blue Rogues to hit. There are not enough Black Pirates for all the Blue Rogues to subsist on. And not only is that true now, but the number of Black Pirates is dwindling, as Valua and the other countries have allied to eliminate them. The new regime in Valua is the knife in the bleeding heart of the Air Pirates; eventually, it will kill us all."

Throughout his tirade, I had felt a rising sense of alarm at the implications of his words. By the time he'd stopped for a breath at the end, every nerve in my body was clamouring 'danger!' and my head was awash in a sea of waving red flags.

"So your plan to save the Air Pirates…?" I prompted, amazing myself with the level of calmness in my voice. _'Maybe I'm misunderstanding him… maybe he isn't really going to—'_

"I will crush the new Valua; a corrupt government to rule once again, allowing the Blue Rogues to prey on the empire's ships." Twyblade said without hesitation, his tone firm and sure, a manic glint in his eye. I was frozen in place for a second.

_'…Or maybe he _is_ going to. Moons…'_ I stared at him, thinking fast_._

"An interesting idea," I murmured. "A puppet government?"

"Not quite. I don't care who rules Valua, as long as there would be no qualms about attack their ships. All I am doing is providing an opening for those who might want it." Twyblade clarified.

"Ah," I said, rubbing my chin. _'So he wouldn't have a role in the new regime… He'd just prey off of it after putting it into power. He takes out the present ruler, let's all the hotheads duke it out for the throne, and then benefits from pirating the now-open-target Valuan ships. And not only him, but the other Blue Rogues as well. It could work… if it's never discovered that _he _was the piper to whom they all were dancing.' _

I looked at Twyblade and said: "I'll have to think on it. There is a lot of risk in this."

"Please do, but remember," Twyblade said, with a small, secret smile, "if you don't risk anything, you'll never gain anything either."

"True…" I muttered to myself as he stood and left, closing the door behind him

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

* * *

I stared at my hands, a slight frown creasing my face. _'So… Twyblade would stage a sort of coup d'état in Valua, step aside, and let whoever wants it take the throne, thus opening Valuan ships to Blue Rogue piracy once again. It is true that that would allow most of us to keep our jobs; some of the pirates that had to give up their ships could even return to the skies. And… whatever government seizes control of Valua would become almost an instant enemy of the Blue Rogues, since most of us are allies to the current Royal Family. Their downfall would anger the Rogues, and really, there'd be no keeping us from attacking the new ruler's ships. Twyblade's plan is… solid. It could really work… We could… save the Air Pirates…'_

I sneered at my own thoughts, punching the mattress where I was sitting. My eyes blazed. _'Dammit, NO! I _like_ Enrique and Moegi! I may have never said as much, or even acted as if I cared, but really… Enrique's a good guy; I think he's a strong leader, and Valua is much better under his rule. On the _Delphinus_, he got so airsick, but no matter how miserable he was, he still tried to do his duty. He stood up to the former Empress, his mother… And Moegi… the people love her. She's serene and benevolent, yet just and fair in her judgments and dealings of state. I wouldn't want them to… It would be wrong if they died for this. The Blue Rogues could prey on the old Valua because the ruler was corrupt and oppressive. And now we want to kill the bearers of peace and freedom because then we couldn't steal from them? No… No.'_

I felt slightly sickened by the thought. Cold and aloof I may act, but I have my honour and dignity. I was a Blue Rogue, not a Black Pirate or a common thief. I set my jaw. I would not support Twyblade in this. I could not allow him to do it.

_'And…'_ I thought, my gaze resting on the inert form of Syf, lying on her side on the bed, curled into a ball. _'I could not let him use _her _to do something so ignoble. Syf… is not a weapon. She is not a Gigas, and I think she never was. What the Glacians did to her was disgusting… It's clear that she doesn't like hurting and killing others, and yet what have they done? They've made her into a puppet and forced her to murder and destroy.'_

A part of me was bemused by my fierce protectiveness toward Syf. Why was I so ready to take up arms to defend her? Was it something programmed by the Glacians? When the Gigas and master linked, was the master placed under some sort of compulsion to protect the Gigas from falling into enemy hands, or being destroyed? _'No, I don't think so. If there is a compulsion, it is the force of Syf's personality. I can't have her in my mind or be in hers without wanting to protect her.'_

I touched my shoulder, where the wooden spar had punched though my body. _'She is so willing to care for me, to protect me—_'an image of her standing up to the Purple Eliminator flashed through my mind _'—and she trusts me so explicitly; it would be impossible for me to knowingly betray that trust. She just attached herself to me blindly, because that's what she'd been told to do. I could have been a murderer, a drunkard, a madman, and she would have still done so. She puts herself at the mercy of the master, because I could order her to do anything at all. I could tell her to kill Twyblade and the others in the bloodiest way imaginable, and she would have to, even though she weeps at the thought of killing.'_

With my thoughts spinning around my head, I was actually becoming rather glad that ancient Glacia had been destroyed. Thank you, Silver Civilization, I owe you one.

_'I have to get away, and get _her_ away, from Twyblade and the rest. I have to get off this ship somehow. But I can't exactly jump ship in the middle of the open sky. Maybe we can slip away at the next port we stop in… But what if we _don't _stop? Or what if the port is full of sympathizers to Twyblade and his plan? Think, Lawrence, think! Where are we?'_

I called up my mental map of Arcadia. We'd left the Ruins of Ice behind us… But what was our heading? I tried to conjure up an image of what things had looked like when I'd been up on deck. When Syf and I had gone to the galley, the second meal of the day had still been being served. That made it midday. Damn. That meant I really couldn't determine our heading from the sun's position. However… the faint outline of the Yellow Moon had been barely visible off our bow. South. We were heading south, more or less. Were we already heading for Valua? No. No, I didn't think Twyblade was that reckless as to attack the empire at its present strength with just one ship, Gigas or no.

_'He has to have allies, supporters, or something… Twyblade's mad maybe, but foolish? Doubtful. We're probably heading for his base… but I'm pretty sure we're not taking the direct route to it. We already know we're being followed…'_ I frowned ferociously. There was still so much I didn't know or understand about the situation! For example, did Twyblade know of any specific groups in Valua that would want to take over the rule? He didn't mention any, but as the plan hinges on a government take-over, he had to have made sure there _was _somebody to take control. And there have been two ships we've attacked, leaving no survivors both times. I was convinced both had been Blue Rogue ships, and the last one had attacked _us_. Did that mean the Blue Rogues had somehow gotten word of Twyblade's plan, and were already trying to stop him? And if so, how had they found out? I shook my head. I didn't want to stick around long enough to find out from Twyblade. If we stayed on the _Windsoul _for too long, either I or Syf—or both—might be forced to do something we'd regret later.

_'So again we come back to getting off the ship. Well, since we're in the portion of the North Ocean between the Lands of Ice and Valua… I suppose we could try to reach Valua… or even Crescent Isle. But Twyblade would expect that. After we run, it'd be obvious that we'd go to warn Enrique of the plot. And besides, I dunno how we'd even get there. We have to jump ship, and that means commandeering the skiff that's lashed to our portside deck. It's really only meant for taking landing parties down to places where the _Windsoul_ can't go; it isn't built for long distances.'_

I stood and started pacing, thinking through the choices. I stopped suddenly, brightening. _'Ilchymis! His island hut is in this region! The skiff has a new engine, too, so it will be able to reach the high altitude… And even if Ilchymis isn't there, we can hide out until we're able to go to…'_

I faltered mid-thought. Where _would_ we go? I knew I had to warn Emperor Enrique of the plot against him, if he didn't already know. But going straight to Valua was so risky…

_'In any case, it will have to wait until night. It would be foolish to try to sneak away now, in broad daylight.'_ I glanced out the porthole. _'Well, it won't be long before sundown, anyway…'_

I settled down to wait. It seemed the sun took its own sweet time in setting, and its light lingered so that, by the time it had faded to darkness, I was taut as a bowstring with nerves. It all could go horribly wrong, and then… _'Shut up, brain. Don't dwell on 'what if's.'_

I leaned over Syf and touched her lightly on the shoulder. She was awake instantly, looking at me alertly. I gestured for silence, and then moved noiselessly over to the door, as she sat up on the edge of the bed. I placed my ear carefully against the wood.

Just as I suspected, light breathing could be heard on the other side. I knew Twyblade would not divulge all that information and then leave me to do as I wanted. I knew he would put a guard on the door, just in case I decided I didn't want a part of the plan, and tried to run. Which was exactly what I had decided. Well, fair enough. There were other modes of entry and exit in the room. Specifically, the porthole. It would be a squeeze for me, but I should be able to fit, and Syf definitely would.

I turned back to her, and pointed to the porthole. She caught on quickly, either because she understood what I was trying to communicate, or because she could see it in my mind. I didn't much care which at that point, only that she did comprehend.

I stuck my head out the porthole and took a look around. The portholes around us were dark; nobody was in the nearby rooms. I carefully inspected the side of the ship. A foot or two below the porthole was a ridge where the metal siding of the hull switched to wood. And above that ridge, spreading across all the wooden planking… I thanked the Moons that Twyblade was vain enough to have a ship with ornamental molding. The whorls and lines in the wood provided numerous hand and foot holds.

I ducked back inside and looked at Syf, thinking clearly: _'Follow me. And keep silent.'_

I hoped she would hear me, and was gratified when she nodded. I hoisted myself up and through the porthole, feet-first. I searched blindly a moment for places to wedge my toes on the other side, and then drew my upper body out when I was sure I had a firm stance. I moved out of the way as Syf came through the porthole. I jerked my chin at her and began climbing up toward the railing of the deck.

She was much better at it than I, benefiting from her lighter and smaller frame. She was up the side of the ship in a flash, looking back down at me as she waited.

_'Is there anybody on deck?' _I wondered briefly. I hoped we wouldn't be caught. I wasn't sure Twyblade would kill us, but I also wasn't willing to risk finding out. Who knew, maybe he was the next in line for being the highest-ranking Glacian, and by killing me, he'd benefit. Though I wasn't sure what Syf's reaction would be in that instance… _'Focus, idiot!'_

I cautiously lifted my head over the railing, glanced around, and ducked back down. I looked at Syf and nodded.

It was quiet on deck… and it made me rather unnerved, even though I knew that there wouldn't likely be anybody on deck at night anyway. On a ship as small as the _Windsoul_, it wasn't necessary, or practical. There were so few crewmembers that the only people not asleep would be tending vital functions, and not patrolling the decks.

Keeping to the shadows, we made our way to the skiff. I crouched in the shadows, and began loosening the ties that kept it in place. In short order, it was free, and I slowly drew back the tarpaulin that covered it. Casting that aside, I turned the boat right side up and, with Syf's help, brought it to the deck railing. I was careful not to make any loud or obvious noises, but…

"I suppose this means you've thought my proposition over, Lawrence?" Shouted Twyblade from behind me. A bright light washed over me, illuminating the skiff. Caught!

"Syf! Get in the boat!" I barked, turning my back to her and facing the light. Twyblade, Wanthope, Kender, Galen, Tresa, Landric, and Meshin were standing arrayed on the poop deck, looking down on me with condemning faces. I pulled my cutlass, knowing full well that it would be useless to try to fight them all. Meshin probably would shoot me in an instant if I tried anything.

My mind was working frantically, but I didn't move, save to shift into a ready stance. I shouted back to Twyblade: "That's right. I'd rather not have a part in this madness, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Madness? My plan will restore the Air Pirates to their former glory!"

"And at what price?" I interrupted. "The peace I risked my life for in the last war? The lives of how many people, including Emperor Enrique and Empress Moegi?"

"I'm afraid I can't let you just walk away from this ship with the knowledge you have, let alone with my Gigas," Twyblade informed me.

"She's not your Gigas, Twyblade. I believe _I_ am the master. And I never expected you to just let me go." I told him, slowly sliding a foot back. I tried to send Syf a clear image of a switch on the control panel of the skiff. "Which is why… I was trying… for stealth!"

With my last words, I turned and threw myself behind the skiff. A shot from a moonstone pistol struck the wood just inches from me, as I got a firm grip on the side of the skiff and heaved. It was hard to try to get the boat over the railing, and I could hear the crew charging across the deck to try to stop me. Syf's fear echoed down our link. I needed to get the skiff into the sky, or all would be lost.

I shifted my grip and threw myself forward; wood scraped on wood as the skiff's keel grated against the railing. There was a rumble and a whirring, and Syf flicked the switch I had shown her, turning on the small boat's engine. I thought the vessel would leap out of my hands with the jerk it gave. As it was, I was pulled forward as the skiff cleared the railing and hovered in the open sky alongside the _Windsoul'_s deck.

Another shot rang out, and this time I felt a horrible burning, searing pain in my side. My hands convulsed on the skiff's hull, and I nearly lost my grip. I kept clutching the wood, though, even as my legs gave out and I fell to my knees on the deck. I stayed kneeling only by virtue of the fact that my arms were draped over the waist-high railing. Had I not been holding the skiff, I would have slid all the way down, to sprawl full-length on the deck.

With the shock of being shot, my brain seemed to process things slower. As if in a dream, I turned my head, aware of Syf's scream only dimly. I looked up toward the poop deck, and met Twyblade's cold eyes as he stared down at me over the barrel of the pistol he'd taken from Meshin. He smirked smugly, obviously thinking me finished. I wasn't sure he was wrong, either.

Then I felt Syf's hands wrap around my wrists, and tug feebly as she cried: "Lawrence! Lawrence!"

_'I'm not dead yet, damn it! I won't give up as long as I have breath in this body!'_ New resolve flooded me. With a growl of effort, I threw myself to my feet and over the railing. The skiff wobbled and tilted crazily as I fell into it.

"Stop them!" roared Twyblade in fury. I gritted my teeth and rose on one hand, slamming the other down on the control panel. The skiff shot away from the _Windsoul_, gaining altitude so fast my head spun… Although, that was perhaps from blood loss. I could feel the warmth of my blood spread down my body and soak my clothes as it pulsed from the gunshot wound in my side. I fell weakly back, lying in the bottom of the skiff and breathing hard. I stared up at the starry sky and watched as it drew closer.

"_Evarisch!_" Syf said in a broken voice, her face hovered over me, tears glittering on her cheeks. She placed a hand over the wound.

"What… does that even mean?" I finally asked what I'd wondered every time she said it. Me tongue felt too large for my mouth.

"_Evarisch_, master… You're _hurt_!" she said, worry creasing her brow. She closed her eyes a moment, as if concentrating. She would heal my wound, like last time. But her eyes flew open a second later, wide and frightened. She paled, lifting her hand and looking at the wound that was still there. My heart sunk.

"You can't heal me, can you?" I asked dully. There was a glint of panic in her gaze now.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

* * *

"I- I'm sorry!" wailed Syf quietly, tears welling in her eyes. "I can't! I-I…"

I let my head sink back to rest against the bottom of the skiff and closed my eyes briefly. _'There is only so much a body can take, even a body that has been made a Gigas. Calling forth the power of the Moons saps the strength; I suppose even Syf had to reach her limit at some point. I just wish it had been at a _different_ point… Moons, I'm tired…'_

"_Evarisch, _no! Please don't fall asleep! Please…"

Despite the sudden onslaught of exhaustion, I managed to open my eyes again, struggling to focus on the tearful face hovering above me. Ilchymis… We needed to reach Ilchymis' island…

"S…Syf…" I said. "Give me that tarp…"

She handed me a swath of canvas that had been lying, shoved in a corner, in the bottom of the boat. I wadded it up and pressed it against my wound with one hand while undoing my belt with the other. My fingers fumbled, and were gently brushed aside as Syf caught on to what I was trying to do. Her slim hands unbuckled my belt, shifting it up further on my body. She cinched it tight over the wound, holding the makeshift canvas bandage in place. Because she had pulled it tight around me, the belt would also help keep a little bit of pressure on the wound, which was good because I was too weak to do it myself and Syf would be…

"You need to… to man the helm…" I told her, forming the words with difficulty. I just wanted to lie back and sleep, and my tongue refused to work correctly. I fought to lift my head and shoulders up slightly. Syf looked at me with those huge, trusting eyes.

"Show me where." If there was a slight tremor in her voice, my failing senses couldn't catch it. I tried to speak again, but this time, I couldn't even get the words past my tongue onto my lips. I exhaled painfully; it was getting harder to open my eyes each time they flickered shut.

_'North Ocean… island…'_ I tried to focus my thoughts even as they slowly spiraled down into the darkness of unconsciousness. The image of my mental map was dim, but I gritted my teeth and directed my thoughts- and Syf's- toward the point that denoted Ilchymis' island. _'There… High…up… Must not let… Twyblade see…Clouds, stay in… clouds.'_

Completely spent, I fell back into the bottom of the skiff, my breath coming in weak gasps. I let my eyes close, and shivered slightly. My body was cold… but the blood on my skin was so hot… burning. A weak panic crawled through my veins, but my exhaustion was so complete, I could barely react to it. The words lazily swam up through the darkness my mind was sinking into, bursting like bubbles at the surface: _'would…rather not…die now…'_

* * *

"Lawrence! Lawrence, open your eyes!" The voice was familiar, authoritative. But sleep was so nice… "He's lost a good deal of blood. I need to see the wound…"

A little more awareness trickled back into me as I was jolted and pain stabbed my side. I gave a low moan, but didn't open my eyes. The pain faded and I started drifting back to sleep once more. I was called back once more by another familiar voice.

"Please, _Evarisch…_ You have to wake up. Please, please wake up… Don't leave me alone…" The last was whispered so softly I don't know how my semi-conscious mind heard it. But the voice, I could not disobey. I cracked my eyes open, looking around dimly as my head lolled. What—? Where?

A very familiar sleeve and then profile crossed my vision as a white-clad man bent over me. Ilchymis… we made it, made it to his island… A wave of relief washed over me, and, with it, another wave of exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm me.

Quite unexpectedly, I was being lifted awkwardly out of the boat. The movement caused blinding pain to flood my body. I must have passed out, because the next thing I was aware of was being inside, lying propped up so that Ilchymis could pour some sort of potion down my throat. It came in trickles so that I wouldn't choke. Almost immediately, the pain dulled so that it was no longer agony to breathe in. When the cup was taken away from my lips, I panted, wearied even by the simple act of drinking.

_'Evarisch…'_ the touch of Syf's mind on mine was feather-light. I opened my eyes to slits, looking around the room and only half-seeing it. It was several moments before I realized Syf was peering at me in concern. I tried to say something, but it just came out as a mumble, inaudible.

Slowly, slowly, my senses began to trickle back. The first thing I realized was that I was stripped to the waist, lying on what seemed to be Ilchymis' worktable. The second thing was that Ilchymis and Syf were standing on either side of the table. Syf had a blanket around her shoulders, her hands clutching it at her throat. Ilchymis had one hand hovering over the wound in my side; in the other he held a Silver Moonstone. The glowing stone did crazy things to the shadows around the alchemist, the dark forms twisting and leaping across his face as he muttered under his breath, eyes closed in concentration.

_'Thank the Moons we made it…'_ my thoughts were becoming clearer as Ilchymis' spell-casting took hold. After a moment, he let his hand drop away, opening his eyes.

"Well." Ilchymis said, seemingly unruffled.

"Il-" I croaked, cleared my throat, and tried again, "Ilchymis. I seem to have bled all over your papers. Sorry."

My old crewmate glanced down at the mess on the worktable. He waved it off: "Ah, well, I can remember all my notes. No matter."

I sat up carefully, inspecting my side. Ignoring the blood that was smeared liberally over my torso, it seemed that I was all in one piece. Thanks, of course, to Ilchymis' timely intervention.

"Well, my apologies anyway. And my thanks," I said, looking around for my shirt and greatcoat.

"You're welcome." Ilchymis replied. I spotted my clothes in a heap nearby, and slid off the table as he continued sternly: "Now, would you mind explaining just why you showed up on my rather out-of-the-way doorstep in a tiny skiff, with a gunshot wound so serious I had to use Risan to bring you back?"

I paused in stooping to pick up my shirt, and glanced at Ilchymis. His gaze flickered briefly to Syf, but he politely didn't add anything about her in his interrogation. Straightening, I winced as my side twinged in pain. The wound was mostly healed, but there was a limit even to what magic can do. The bleeding was stopped and the wound closed, but my body still had to heal the muscles and such. There was still internal damage.

_'Wait… Risan?'_ The full implication of Ilchymis' words finally hit me. _'He had to use Risan? Then, I was… almost…'_

I swallowed, not wanting to dwell much on the fact of my close brush with death, and shook out my shirt. I grimaced again, but this time at the state of the clothing.

"Damn," I muttered, poking two fingers through the hole in the cloth. "These were my only clothes, too."

"I can fix them," said Syf in a small voice from my elbow. I nearly jumped; I hadn't noticed her moving to stand there. "I can… at least… fix those."

I blinked down at her head; she wouldn't look at me. She was keeping her face carefully averted, as if in shame. She reached out and stroked her hand over the hole in the shirt I held, and as her fingers passed over it, the hole vanished. The shirt was whole again, as if it had never been shot through. As I stared, Syf knelt and did the same with my greatcoat.

_'That… there's no spell for this… How is she doing it?' _I wondered, standing frozen in place. _'She can cast spells without the aid of a Moonstone… and she can cast spells that I'm pretty sure don't exist… What the hell did they do to her to make her like this?'_

"That is…" Ilchymis said, startled. He crossed over to me and leaned in close to peer at the shirt in my fist. "Fascinating! What is this, a modified casting of Sacri? Or…"

I ignored him, watching Syf as she backed up, head down, shoulders hunched.

"Syf." I said, and, when she still wouldn't look up, more forcefully: "_Syf_. I am not angry with you."

Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes to meet mine. "But I… I couldn't do my duty… I couldn't heal you!"

"It wasn't your fault. I am not angry with you," I told her, staring her in the eye so she could see I wasn't lying. Finally, she looked away, nodding mutely.

"Perhaps…" Ilchymis said slowly, "you should tell me what's going on."

* * *

When I was finished with the telling, Ilchymis sat back in the chair where he'd flopped about halfway through. He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips pensively, staring at the floor.

"Well. I think you were right to not try to go straight to Valua. That would have been too predictable. However, we do need to get word to Emperor Enrique as soon as possible…"

"Vyse." I said tiredly, sitting limply in another chair, drained of energy. "We need to find Vyse. He has a lot of friends in the Blue Rogues, and contacts in Valua. If we want to stop Twyblade, we'll need Vyse's help."

"I agree," Ilchymis replied shortly. "But for now, we'll have to lie low for a day or two before venturing out. If this Twyblade can't find you right away, he'll need to assume you've managed to inform someone of what you know. He won't be able to hang around the North Ocean for long."

"It's a race." Syf said suddenly. "If he thinks we told someone, he'll need to act faster so we won't have time to stop him. But we'll need to act fast so we _can_ stop him."

"Right." I didn't bother feeling surprised by her sudden understanding of the situation. It seemed that as time passed, she became more aware, more coherent. Moons help me, but I was starting to get used to her.

"I have a ship docked behind the house," Ilchymis said. "It's not much larger than your skiff, but it will be able to get us to where we want to go."

"Crescent Isle," I said, answering the unasked question. "Since it's Vyse's base of operations, we should head there. He might be out when we get there, but we can leave a message, restock, and continue on to Valua."

"Good. We've a plan, then." Ilchymis settled his hands on his chair's armrests. "Now we just need to wait until we can be reasonably certain Twyblade has left the area."

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

* * *

It was another dream-that-was-not, a nightmare that felt like a memory… or vice versa. I thought it was a dream at first, but there was no dream-like quality to it. Usually, you can tell something is a dream because there's some ludicrous thing that happens—like you sprout wings or some-such nonsense—but everything in this 'dream' was starkly real.

There was a tube down my throat. My throat? No… it was not my body; I was merely a passenger, able to see, feel, taste, smell, and hear, but unable to control, to move. The body seemed to be just waking to its situation, and was gagging around the tube, bucking as muscles jerked involuntarily. Eyes opened to feel sudden pressure as the viscous liquid the body was submerged in pressed against their surfaces. The liquid distorted everything the eyes saw, but I—seeing it as well—could make out the forms of people looking in at the body, watching… The body seemed to be suspended in a cylinder, in a bare room where many people watched and talked and wrote things down. One of the amorphous person-shapes pulled a lever, and quite suddenly there was something cold running down the tube into the body. I could feel it as well, a biting cold invading me, moving down my throat into my stomach, and then radiating outwards from there. It felt like ice crystals were being forced through my veins, and—like tiny knives—were shredding me into pieces from the inside. The body wanted to scream, but the tube and the surrounding liquid smothered the cry. A heartbeat became clearly audible through the agony, rapid and loud. A thin ringing accompanied it. For a moment, for a brief moment… I thought I could hear a whispering voice.

_Let me feast on flesh… Let me slake my thirst with blood… Angry, get angry! Let your fury loose my bonds…_

It was a terrible voice, one that sounded beautiful even as it pained you to hear it. It pressed upon your mind so that you wanted to collapse, clutching your head, so that all you could think about was how much you wanted it to stop. But part of you never wanted it to stop, and that part wanted only to give itself up to the voice, give in to what it said.

The heartbeat thundered in my ears. The body's hand twitched.

_Kill…_

It happened so quickly the images blurred in my mind, just as they had when Syf and I destroyed that Blue Rogue ship. One moment the body was motionless, and then the next… The glass of the cylinder shattered, the liquid rushing down and out all over, and the body ripped the tube from its throat with an inhuman shriek of rage. It seemed that in the blink on an eye, the body was suddenly across the room, with one of the person-shapes under its claw. Only it wasn't just a person-shape anymore, now it had a face, an identity. And it wasn't a claw that was ripping out the man's throat in a hot gush of blood, it was a hand. A slender, long-fingered hand.

It was the heat and smell of the blood that stopped the owner of that hand from slaughtering every last living soul in that room; not the rush of incapacitating magic that struck it, nor the iron collar around its neck that buried dozens of needles full of drugs into its flesh. The blood, painting garish streaks of color across the floor, drew the hand's owner up short. Eyes lifted slowly, but froze when they caught sight of the blood-splattered face they were set in, reflected in a shard of glass. And then the body screamed.

As before, I woke in a cold sweat. Sitting up quickly, I glanced around for Syf. Ilchymis was motionless, sleeping in his bed across the room, but Syf's cot, partly shielded from view by a bookcase, was empty. I rose from my cot quietly, this time looking carefully all over the room. I found Syf crammed in a corner between two walls and a chair. She was curled in the fetal position, and wasn't making a sound. She just stared blankly at the hands she held in front of her face, her eyes open so wide the whites showed all around the irises.

My stomach turned unpleasantly. I reached out an uncertain hand; "Syf?"

Slowly, jerkily, she shook her head, muttering. "Not mine, not mine, not mine."

"Wha—?" My forehead creased. Syf continued, cutting me off. Her whisper was sharp, fearful.

"These hands, they aren't mine! They took away my hands. They're gone, like the rest of me… They gave me these hands instead, but I don't want them! They're too red…" Tears started to drip down her face.

"Red hands," I said, staring at her.

"I do things… bad things that I don't want to do, but I can't stop myself from doing them. It's the hands, they're doing it, and all the parts of me that aren't me," she whimpered.

"Syf… those dreams…" I hesitated. "Do you see them too?"

"I can't dream," she said. "I can't dream; I can only remember."

"Remember? Syf, are those your _memories_? Was that how you were… created?" I put my hands on her shoulders so she looked at me.

"It isn't me," she said.

"Lawrence?" Ilchymis' sleepy voice made me start in surprise. I twisted around to look at him. Propped on one elbow, he asked: "What's going on?"

I didn't want to tell him. I didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Abruptly, I straightened up from my crouch, and walked over to the chair my greatcoat was draped over without a glance back at Syf. I shrugged on the greatcoat and said, voice devoid of emotion: "I think it is time to leave. Twyblade wouldn't have wanted to hang around too long, and we don't have much time if we want to get our information to Enrique."

I knew without looking that Ilchymis' gaze was flicking from me to Syf and back again, but he wisely did not ask anything. He simply said: "Right. I can usually make the capital of Valua in two days, so it should probably take us five to get to Crescent Isle, four if we have a good wind behind us."

"Then pray we have a gale at our backs."

* * *

Ilchymis' boat was barely larger than the skiff we'd arrived on the island in, but it was large enough to warrant a covered bridge. The structure surrounding the controls was almost too small to be called a bridge, though. In my opinion, 'control booth' would have been a more apt term. But size non-withstanding, the vessel handled like a dream. I wondered briefly how Ilchymis had afforded to purchase such a craft, before remembering that his research was funded by the Valuan Empire. Gold wasn't exactly an issue for him.

I considered the vessel's fuel consumption, and the amount of Moonstone fuel we had, and cranked the engine up to the fastest speed possible. As I handled the helm, Syf and Ilchymis kept a lookout for any nearby ships. I personally didn't think Twyblade would have lingered in the North Ocean for long, not with the _Windsoul _damaged as she was, but it was better safe than sorry. I didn't much want to let him get the better of me, anyway.

It was after about three days when things became unpleasant. We had had a tail wind for most of the journey, but it had been too weak to make a difference; I'd had to resort to some of the sailing tricks I'd picked up throughout my career, but I had managed to get us pretty close to Crescent Isle in those three days. It was somewhere around dawn on the fourth day when Ilchymis spotted the ship. Crescent Isle was not quite visible yet; I guessed that we still had half a day before we arrived at our destination.

The ship was only a small form in the distance, but I could tell that it was a larger and more powerful craft. And it was heading on an intercept course with us. I knew it would catch up to us before we reached Crescent Isle. Ilchymis could see it in my face.

"Do we have any chance to outrun them?" He asked.

"It's not likely," I replied grimly, "but I'm damn well going to try."

I increased the power from the engine, pushing it to its limit. The boat leapt forward in a burst of speed. In spite of my words, I was thinking quickly about what I could do if it came down to a ship battle. Obviously, we'd be at a serious disadvantage, as Ilchymis' boat had no weapons to speak of. But our smaller size gave us the advantage in maneuverability. And you can't sink what you can't hit, no matter what weapons you have.

It caught up to us when Crescent Isle was still just a hazy image on the horizon. The only warning I had was the booming sound of cannonfire, and then the cannonballs were whistling through the air off our starboard side.

"Bloody—!" I growled, taking evasive action. I looked back at them. It wasn't the _Windsoul_. And it wasn't a Black Pirate ship. That left two possibilities: 1) Twyblade had allies, or 2) there was some random ship preying on other vessels that had just happened to see our small skiff and decide it was worth attacking. I was leaning toward the first.

"Ilchymis!" I shouted, "Make sure you and Syf are braced and secure; things are going to get rough!"

"I thought I'd left this sort thing behind when I went back to research," Ilchymis muttered under his breath. He reached out and seized Syf's wrist as she leaned out over the skiff's railing, staring back at the ship that loomed ominously behind us. He pushed her in between two boxes, where she'd be protected from any debris that might go flying, and where she'd also be in no danger of falling overboard. Then he came to stand at my shoulder.

"Dammit, I said both of you!" I snapped, dodging another salvo from our pursuers. "Don't blame me if you suddenly find yourself kissing sky."

"Port!" Shouted Ilchymis, and I jerked the skiff aside, just missing the cannonball. We both let out our breaths in relief. Ilchymis leaned over my left arm and pointed to something under the control console. "I had a special lever installed, in case I was ever being chased by Black Pirates. Once we get close enough to Crescent Isle, pull it. It'll give us a boost of speed."

_THWUMP_

My response was cut off by a very unpleasant sound. I looked at Ilchymis; "That didn't sound like a cannonball…"

We glanced back, and I cursed. A ball of flaming goo sailed toward us in an arc. _'Pyrulen jelly!'_

The stuff made a very distinctive noise as it was shot out of a cannon; its gooey texture contributed to that, as well as the fact that as soon as the cannon was fired, the jelly ignited, going from cool to raging hot in a mere second. It was a sailor's worst nightmare.

"Hang on!" I shouted, and cut the skiff to starboard so hard some of the lighter items on the deck went sliding. This brought us zipping right in front of their bow, though thankfully they didn't hit us. The fireball fell into deep sky, still flaming merrily. I gritted my teeth and focused on the growing mass of Crescent Isle.

A lucky shot from one of their cannons flew over our heads, and crashed into the bowsprit of the skiff. Still Crescent Isle grew larger in our sights. I could see two ships off its shores, and hoped they were Vyse's. I had a brief moment of panic as I contemplated the possibility of Twyblade having taken over Crescent Isle. I dismissed the thought, confident that my old crewmates wouldn't have been defeated.

The moment of panic, however short it may have been, proved to be my downfall. I realized belatedly that I had just heard the peculiar noise of another glob of Pyrulen jelly being shot at us. My head whipped around.

I drew in a sharp breath as I tracked the arc of the flaming jelly down… It would hit us; I couldn't dodge it.

"Syf!" At my voice, she threw herself forward, into the control booth. I set myself, feet planted firmly apart, knees slightly bent… And then the Pyrulen jelly hit.

It hit us on the back half of the skiff, but splattered everywhere. Suddenly, we were surrounded by flames. I winced, fighting the urge to take my hands from the helm to shield my face from the intense heat.

"Brace yourselves!" I said, as I started coughing from the thick black smoke. I groped blindly for the lever Ilchymis had shown me earlier, smoke and ash in my eyes. The seconds it took me to find it felt like hours. I pulled it as soon as I felt it under my fingers.

There was a roar from the engine, and the skiff shot forward. I fell over backwards, finding myself suddenly blinking up at the sky and the fat roils of smoke rising from the burning craft. I struggled up, to see that Crescent Isle was coming up very, very quickly.

"We're gonna crash!" I shouted. The benefit of having a small ship was that Syf and Ilchymis were right next to me. As the skiff screamed over the island, trailing smoke and flames, I grabbed them each by a fistful of their shirt, stumbled to the railing, and jumped overboard.

There was a moment of dizzying confusion and tumbling through the air, and then we hit water. The skiff must have also landed in water, because there was a huge noise and a tumult of bubbles and steam. The three of us were tumbled about even more under the water by the impact. When I finally broke the surface, gasping, the small town on Crescent Isle was swarming with activity. The two ships I had seen before were in motion, ready to defend the island, but the ship that had shot us down was now beating a hasty retreat, not wanting a two-on-one battle.

Syf was splashing helplessly close by, her flailing making it obvious she didn't know how to swim. I kicked over to her, noting that Ilchymis had survived as well. He was sputtering, trying to get soot out of his eyes.

I wrapped an arm around Syf and made for shore with strong strokes.

An unseen benefit of having a telepathic link with someone is that it makes it a hell of a lot easier to rescue them when they're drowning. Syf quieted when she felt my arm around her, and I was able to get us both to dry land without her panic drowning the both of us. There was something of a crowd gathered at the water's edge by then. I staggered onto the grass, streaming water and supporting a coughing Syf, and came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun. I looked past the weapon to the face of the person holding it. The person blinked, his mouth opening in surprise, and dropped the arm holding the gun.

"_Lawrence_?" Vyse, captain of the _Delphinus_, called 'the Legend,' said incredulously.


	5. Chapter 16 thru 19

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

* * *

I just stared at him, dripping water and breathing hard, as Syf sagged against my side. I had one of her arms draped across my shoulders (I had to stoop slightly to account for our differing heights), kept there by my grip on her wrist, and one of my arms wrapped around her waist. I blinked at the murmuring crowd before me. There were quite a few familiar faces there, and I was thrown a bit off-balance by seeing them all at once, and in such an abrupt manner.

"Uh…" I managed. Behind me, Ilchymis staggered onto the beach, bogged down by the sodden mass of his robes. He looked about as disoriented as I felt.

"Hey! What's going on? Let me through!" I was saved from trying to find something coherent to say by a shout from the back of the crowd. The people shifted, parting before the two women who approached. One, the redhead, stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. The second woman stopped as well, giving the redhead a puzzled look before following her companion's gaze to me. Her green eyes widened, and one hand rose to her mouth to stifle a gasp.

"Fina, Aika…" I nodded to each of them, and glanced back to the brown-haired pirate in front of me, "…Vyse. Long time no see."

"Oh my!" Fina said finally, hurrying forward to ease Syf away from me. I straightened up gratefully, wincing a bit at the stab of pain in my side. Aika's mouth moved, but no sound came out, and Vyse just stared.

"I, uh, have a small problem," I said awkwardly. Vyse's mouth closed with a nearly audible snap.

"I… um… can see that," he replied, blinking and shaking his head a bit. "You wanna tell me how you got mixed up with the Greylings?"

_'Greylings?' _I thought, but let it go for the time being. Still very aware of the attentive crowd- and keeping an eye on Syf, unsure of how she'd react to all the strangers surrounding us- I replied: "Maybe somewhere less… crowded?"

"Oh," Vyse said, seemingly just realizing that the entire population of Crescent Isle was arrayed behind him.

"There's the map room," Aika said, recovering her powers of speech. She waved weakly over her shoulder.

"Perhaps we should let them change out of their wet clothes first?" suggested Fina, her arm around Syf's shoulders in a gentle gesture of reassurance.

"No," I said before anyone else could respond. I shook my head firmly. "What I have to say should be said as soon as possible. Time is a luxury we don't have."

At this, Vyse lifted an eyebrow. "Then let's get moving."

* * *

"First of all," I started, wrapped in an oversized towel and seated in an armchair near the fireplace (concessions to Fina's concern that we'd catch a cold), "Who or what is a 'Greyling?'"

"Ah, maybe Fina should explain; she came up with the name," Vyse said, glancing at the platinum-blonde Silvite. Fina bowed her head.

"There's a new group of Air Pirates who are neither Blue Rogues or Black Pirates who've been causing us some problems. Their intentions are somewhat unknown, though they claim to be acting in the interest of all Air Pirates. We're not sure if they're good or bad; hence, they are 'Greylings.'"

"They're bad," I informed them grimly, "though they'd have you believe they're good. They're planning to stage a coup in Valua."

"A coup?" Vyse repeated, frowning. "Well."

"But… how did you guys discover the existence of the… Greylings?" I asked. "You said they were causing you problems? How did you get on their bad side? I mean, I met the head of their faction, and he's more likely to try to get you to join him than to make you his enemy."

"A few weeks ago we received word that a scholar in Yafutoma had been murdered. He'd been an old friend of my father's, so naturally, we investigated. Our investigations dug up half a dozen other murdered scholars. People around most of the murder-scenes have said they saw a ship in the vicinity prior to the killing; their descriptions of the ship are consistent. So we asked around, and ran into the Greylings, who evidently thought we knew a little too much for their comfort," Vyse concluded dryly. "We signaled to them, asking about the murders, and they just shot a few cannonballs at us, turned tail, and disappeared."

"Did you notice the name of the ship?"

"Yeah, I did. The _Dancer._" Aika spoke up as Vyse adopted a chagrined expression and shook his head.

"_Damn_ it," I growled. "Then it wasn't Twyblade. Which mean he already has allies."

"Who is Twyblade?" Fina asked.

"A bad man," Syf said with conviction, her voice slightly muffled as she buried her face into the blanket she was cocooned in. Vyse, Fina, and Aika blinked at her with varying degrees of curiosity and confusion.

"I'm inclined to agree with that statement, at least on a certain level," I said with a little bit of a sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. "Halvor Twyblade is the captain of the _Windsoul_, and is the leader of the group you've dubbed as the 'Greylings.' I think he's the one that must have killed those scholars, because his quarters were filled with old documents and records. But as to how I became involved, and just what my involvement is in this whole thing… That's a long story; I'll try to summarize."

I sighed, dropping my hand to my chair's armrest and staring into the fire that burned in the fireplace.

"Twyblade hired me on Sailor's Island, saying that he was a Discovery hunter. I took the job. We sailed to an Ixa'takan island, where I stayed on the ship as Twyblade and a few others went ashore. When they came back to the ship, they weren't carrying anything, yet they acted like they'd just stolen the Valuan Crown Jewels," I frowned as I remembered it.

"The most recent murder was in Ixa'taka," Vyse said, startled.

"That must have been it," I said. My fist clenched. As I thought back to the events of the past few weeks, I was beginning to piece things together and realize things I hadn't before. "Anyway, we sailed on, and not much further along, we were attacked by a ship. I was below-decks for the attack, but when it was over, we salvaged what we could from the ship before it sank. I noticed as we sailed away that the ship had no sails or flag. Now I know for sure that it must have been a Blue Rogue ship, and Twyblade sent me below decks to keep me from knowing. They had to have stripped the ship of anything that would have identified it as Blue Rogue. In fact, I remember, all the bodies had already been thrown overboard when I was called up to the deck. Damn, but did they pull the wool over my eyes!"

I had to stop a moment and grit my teeth in fury. How could I have been such a fool? Vowing to disembowel Twyblade in the most painful manner possible, I continued; "I was uneasy, but I didn't realize anything. Twyblade talked to me then. He… he told me I was a descendant of the Purple Civilization; that a few of them had survived the Rains and I had the purest bloodline of all the descendants. He told me that he was looking for a treasure that only one of the Purple Civilization could claim."

My gaze flickered to Syf, who looked back at me calmly, almost as if she didn't know Twyblade had been referring to her. But I could feel through our link that she did. Fina noticed the look, heard my words, and paled.

"No…" she said weakly. She was one of the Silver Civilization, the race that had been responsible for calling down the Rains when the five Civilizations of ancient Arcadia got out of control, the race that had exiled themselves high above the skies of the world to keep watch as Arcadia rose again… the race that had retained the knowledge of the ancient Civilizations. She knew what 'treasure' I spoke of.

My eyes met hers and I simply matched her stare; I didn't say anything. She went—if possible—paler, and switched her stare to Syf.

"Then, she's…"

"We went to the Ruins of Ice," I said, deliberately cutting into the middle of Fina's statement as she trailed off. "And in a sealed room, we found the treasure. It was a young girl, encased in ice."

Vyse and Aika jerked in surprise, glancing at Syf, who bore their looks serenely. Fina looked pole-axed, and Ilchymis (who had heard it all once already) merely looked thoughtful.

"Twyblade used my blood to break the binding that had been placed on her; she woke up and proceeded to link her mind to mine. Then we left, though we nearly had to battle an Eliminator—"

"Nearly?" Interrupted Vyse. "How is it 'nearly'? Whenever we've fought one, they've been relentless in their pursuit and attempts to… well… eliminate."

"I shut it down," Syf announced proudly. I gave her a look.

"Yes, she shut it down, and promptly collapsed. I had to carry her back to the ship." I cleared my throat, continuing. "I found out after the fact that she was the Purple Civilization's second Gigas—"

"What?!"

"_Second_?"

I paused until the exclamations had died down; "They had evidently not thought that one was enough, and tried to make a second one, one that was easier to hide. A better weapon. The Gigas was linked to the Master telepathically, and controlled in that manner. The Master was always the highest-ranking Glacian, and the highest-ranking Glacian was determined by blood."

"And since you had the purest bloodline going back to the Purple Civilization…" Vyse said; his expression showed several different battling emotions.

"Right. So we left the Lands of Ice, but we were followed. Another ship attacked us, and Twyblade ordered me to force Syf to destroy it. But I hesitated, because the ship was not a Black Pirate vessel. Unfortunately, a shot from their cannons splintered a part of our deck, and I was injured. I…I lost control, and when that happened, Syf…" I swallowed, noting that Syf was trembling slightly. "The ship was destroyed, but when I came back to myself, I realized that it had been a Blue Rogue ship. I was furious with Twyblade. I demanded to know why he told me to do it. And he told me.

"We all know that pirates are a dying breed. We have fewer ships upon which to prey, and the Discoveries are running out. Twyblade thinks that former pirates won't have the respect they warrant when they try to give up pirating to take on more conventional jobs. He wants us to have a more secure future. Unfortunately, he thinks the best way to do this is to overthrow Emperor Enrique and install a corrupt government in Valua so we can target their ships once again. He wanted the second Purple Gigas to achieve this goal. But to have that, he needed the highest-ranking Glacian.

"Well, I wasn't having any of that. So I ran, taking Syf with me. We high-tailed it to Ilchymis' and then came here."

"Gave them the abridged version, did you?" murmured Ilchymis. I ignored him; there was no need to detail the… injuries… I had received in the course of the tale.

There was silence in the room. Then—

"Damn." Vyse said. He turned to Fina. "Did you know about the second Gigas?"

"The Silvites had heard rumors of one, but… We never confirmed anything. I'm afraid all I know is that the second was supposed to be very powerful and almost impossible to detect before it was too late. But it never turned up, so we thought it might have been just talk…" She fell silent.

"The second Gigas is listed as a failed experiment," I informed her, sounding bitter. "That's why they didn't use her. They weren't happy with how she turned out, so they put her away."

"What was, er, wrong with her?" Aika asked, with an apologetic look at Syf.

"They forgot that, if they were going to use a human being as a base for the Gigas, they would have to take human emotions and morals into account," I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, and failed.

"They never imagined they could make such a destructive weapon that would cry for those it was forced to kill. It's disgusting," I said, feeling anger uncoil in my chest. I sprang to my feet and stalked across the floor in front of the fire. "The ancient Glacians, Twyblade… they are the same. They see Syf as a tool. But dammit, I _know_ she's a person. She's_ in _my_ head_! How could I not feel pity or anger for her situation?"

I didn't realize I was shouting until Syf faltered; "_Evarisch?_"

I blinked and forced the muscles in my shoulders to relax.

"I'll kill him. Not only for Syf, but also for trying to kill Enrique and Moegi, for the Blue Rogues he's already killed, and for trying to make me his pawn," I said coldly, calmly.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

* * *

"So you think that killing him is the only answer?" Vyse asked me. I looked at him.

"Yes. I saw him, I saw the look in his eyes as he talked about his plan," I said soberly. "The man is a fanatic. He believes that this is the only way to save the Air Pirates. He believes he is a righteous crusader in this endeavor."

"But so many lives in Valua were improved when Enrique took the throne," Fina said. "And the Valuans no longer hunt down Blue Rogues. There is peace in the world; does he want to destroy that?"

"I don't think that is his intent, but it doesn't seem like he cares that it will be a side effect of his coup d'état. He certainly doesn't hesitate to kill people who get in his way, even if they're the Air Pirates he's supposedly fighting for. Why would he flinch at shattering a little thing like peace, as long as his goal is achieved?" I replied.

"I'm beginning to like this man less and less…" Vyse muttered. I shook my head.

"On the contrary, he's very likeable, which is one of the reasons why he's so dangerous. He's very charismatic; I trusted him and was drawn in for a while," I sighed and eased myself back into my chair. "He probably commands quite a following; there will be Blue Rogues desperate enough to go along with his plan, and others who he's charmed into joining him."

"I'm still not really convinced that killing him is the only option," Vyse said, shaking his head. I graced him with a disgusted look.

"We'll make a deal, then. If you get to him first, you can try to rehabilitate the self-righteous maniac. If I get to him first, I can kill him."

"But, that's—" Vyse choked back the rest and then said: "Fine. Deal."

Ilchymis gave a small cough. "Well, anyway, the first thing we have to do—beside warning Enrique—is find out where Twyblade is basing his followers."

"Well… there aren't very many uncharted islands anymore, not with everybody scouring the skies for Discoveries. Do you have a map?" I questioned, standing again. Vyse nodded, and Aika stood.

"Here," she said, striding over to the wide, high table that dominated the center of the room. There were several maps spread over it already, and a couple rolled parchments stacked on one end. Aika shuffled through the open maps, found what she was looking for, and pulled it to the top.

"Right…" I murmured as I leaned over the map "…so where would you hide?"

"There are a lot of uninhabited islands in Ixa'taka," Aika suggested helpfully.

"That's true, but I don't think he'll be there. The Ixa'takans are naturally suspicious of any foreigners who take up in their airspace; they won't forget the whole disaster with DeLoco and the Valuan force at Moonstone Mountain. No, if I had to hazard a guess, I'd say Twyblade would base his fleet… there." I brought my finger down in the lower right corner of the map, near Hamachou Island and the Dark Rift. There were a few uninhabited islands there, and it was a rather out-of-the-way location.

"Oh, near where we found Ryu-kan?" Vyse asked, coming over and looking down at the map. He studied it a moment. "Yeah, it makes sense. It's a little bit of a hassle getting there, so Twyblade wouldn't have to worry about anybody accidentally stumbling upon his base."

"And he has nearly a clean shot to Valua. All he has to do is sail through this arm of the Rift—" I traced the dark line across the map "—and there he is. Valua won't have much warning, either, because the Rift will hide any approaching ships."

"Correction: Valua won't have much warning unless _we_ warn them. Then they can set patrols," Ilchymis interjected.

"True," I conceded. "But that's a very big 'if,' in my way of thinking. We still have to sail there and deliver our warning before its too late. And Twyblade will not wait around for us to do so. He's going to try to make his move before we make ours."

"Oh, I have no doubt we'll come out ahead of him," Vyse said, a cocky grin spreading across his face. I looked at my former Captain, and couldn't help but believe what he said. Vyse doesn't lose, even when he loses.

* * *

"Well, I trust everything is to your satisfaction?" Vyse drawled as he walked onto the bridge of the _Delphinus_. I was already onboard, looking over the familiar controls and running a hand over the wheel. I suddenly realized, in that moment, how much I had missed that ship.

"It'll do," was all I said in response. But the tone of my voice was of fondness. The _Delphinus_ was a wonder of a ship, a vessel the likes of which most sailors can only dream of. She flew like she was a living creature, and when I was at the helm, I always marveled at how it almost seemed like the ship anticipated my every move and command.

Vyse gave me a cheeky grin in response, and glanced over at the entrance to the bridge. The rest of the crew was boarding, and I watched as they all filed into the bridge. They were all familiar faces; the crew was very much the same as when we flew against Ramirez and Galcian. Though many of them had left the crew to follow other pursuits, they had all returned over time. I remembered something my father, a fellow sailor, had said once; "When a crew clicks, there's nothing in Arcadia can separate them, not even themselves."

I hadn't known what he was talking about at the time, of course, but the meaning was crystal-clear now. Everyone standing on the bridge looked to Vyse with loyalty shining in their faces.

_'Kind of like Twyblade and his crew,'_ whispered the back of my mind. A wash of unease came over me.

_'It…It's true,'_ I realized, _'but there is a marked difference between the two. The way they're coping with the changing times. Vyse is accepting the changes, because he sees all the good they're doing. Twyblade doesn't like what's happening, so he's trying to force the world to be the way he wants it.'_

"You all know our mission," Vyse said, stirring me out of my thoughts, "We sail against a group of delinquent Air Pirates. We sail against the enemies of Valua and Emperor Enrique, our friend and comrade. And 'failure' is not in our vocabulary!"

Aika could stand it no more; she sprang forward, pumping a fist in the air. "Yay! Let's sail!"

Vyse turned to where I stood by the ship's wheel. "Full ahead, helmsman."

I sketched a salute. "Aye aye, Captain!"

* * *

Urala set the plate in front of me, waves of mouth-watering aroma wafting past my face. She smiled timidly as she stepped back, clasping her serving tray to her chest.

"I hope you enjoy it," she said, nearly in a whisper. She was still as soft-spoken as ever. She shyly added a "Welcome back, Lawrence" before hurrying away.

I blinked after her. It wasn't that she was the only one to have said those words; in fact, every crewmember I'd seen thus far had said the same. What surprised me was that they all _meant_ it. Each and every last one of them sounded truly pleased that I was back on the ship. I hadn't ever considered the possibility that they had liked me, that they would miss me.

I put a piece of fish in my mouth and chewed slowly, thinking it all over. It was a decidedly strange occurrence. Mercenaries are not normally _liked_; we're held in contempt by many, tolerated by others, but not usually liked. This crew… the crew of the _Delphinus_… They seemed to consider me as a friend, even though the reason I was with them was because I was being paid.

Well, that was the reason at first. I wasn't in Vyse's employ now, and here I was, completely unwilling to leave his crew. This was one of those crews my father was talking about.

I glanced up as I heard someone enter the galley, and nearly choked. Pausing in the doorway, Syf looked around, spotted me, and made her way over.

"What—?" I said, staring. Syf's purple hair stood out from her head in two thick braids.

"The red one, Ai-ka, wanted to braid my hair," Syf said brightly, tripping a bit over the redhead's name.

"She made you look like her, which is to say ridiculous."

"Hey!" said Aika as she walked into the galley just in time to hear my remark. "You're so mean, Lawrence."

The only reply she got was a noncommittal grunt. Syf tipped her head to the side.

"You do not approve, _evarisch?_"

"No, it's not… I just…" I groped for words. I didn't want to hurt her feelings, dammit, but I didn't know how to say what I wanted to. I _did_ know I wanted to slice the smirk off of Aika's face, though. She must have guessed at my bloody thoughts of retribution, because she hastily changed the subject:

"What does 'evar-whatever' mean?"

"_Evarisch._ It's the language of the Ancient Purple Civilization," said Fina from behind Aika, as I opened my mouth to reply. "It means master."

The Silvite walked up to Syf and said, "_Gevar tøk schefisk?"_

Syf looked at the woman in surprised pleasure, answering, _"Lep verr gevarut Fask."_

"What are you saying?" Aika asked fascination.

"Fina asked what town Syf was from, and Syf said she was from Fask," I replied. Aika turned her head to stare at me.

"I didn't know you spoke Ancient Glacian!" She accused.

"I don't," I said uncomfortably, "Syf does. I just get secondhand knowledge."

I turned back to my meal, avoiding the strange look Aika gave me.

"Oh, that's right…" she said. The rest of the statement was left unspoken, but it hung in the air between us. _Oh, that's right, you're in each other's brains._

"I can give _evarisch_ the words, and then he can understand," Syf said. She was finger-combing her hair out of the braids. She continued, "Just as I receive the words of this language from him."

"Really?" Aika's eyes widened, "So he could speak it right now? Do it! Come on, say something in Glacian!"

"No." I scowled at her.

"Why not? C'mon, just say something real short!"

"I'm not some sort of performing Huskra," I told Aika icily. Really, I didn't want to experience the weirdness of having the words of some foreign tongue I didn't even know come out of my mouth.

"Well, fine," Aika groused. "Spoil sport."

She went off to get her own supper. Fina drew her hand away from her mouth where I suspected she had been smothering a giggle, and touched Syf on the shoulder.

"Come on, let's go get our supper as well," and she led Syf away.

* * *

"Lawrence, report to the bridge immediately. Lawrence to the bridge." The announcement over the ship's intercom startled me out of my bunk (another point of interest: they hadn't even given anybody my old quarters. Everything was as I had left it one year ago, including the whetstone I had forgotten on the room's tiny table). I came fully awake in an instant, buckling on my cutlass and tossing my greatcoat around my shoulders before hastily leaving the small room.

Vyse was standing in front of the large wrap-around windows of the bridge, arms folded across his chest, when I entered.

"Captain Vyse?" He turned at the sound of my voice.

"We're almost to Valua." He said without preamble, "You're obviously going to be one of the ones actually leaving the ship to speak with Enrique, so better get prepared now, if you aren't already."

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**

* * *

We moored the _Delphinus_ at the Recuerdo Docks, a newly constructed shipyard Emperor Enrique had designed. The name came from the fact that right at the entrance to the docks was a memorial commemorating those who had died when the Rains fell on Valua for the second time. It was the first thing you saw when entering the city via ship.

It was my first time in the capital city since it was rebuilt, and since our secondary helmsman Don had relieved me, I took the opportunity to look out at the city as our approach to the docks gave us a fine view from the main deck.

As I stood at the railing, I felt a whisper of thought in my mind, and I twisted my head around to look at Syf as she walked up beside me. She stared at the city with wide eyes.

"Pretty…" she whispered. I looked back at the view, considering. The ever-present thunderheads caused by the Yellow Moon cast Valua into eternal dusk, and so the city was constantly lit by a myriad of colored lights. Enrique had very much improved the city in all aspects with his Reformation, appearance included.

_'Yes, I suppose it is rather pretty,'_ I thought absently. _'It truly is a testament to Enrique's character that he managed to rebuild the city to even surpass its former opulence while still keeping the cost to the people low. I think almost all of the gold to finance the construction came from the Royal coffers.'_

"You like Enrique," Syf said quietly; it wasn't a question. I leaned against the railing.

"Yes," I admitted just as quietly. "He's a good emperor, if a bit inexperienced. He makes up for it in heart, and he's nobody's fool. He's a good man."

"You will… fight… for him?"

"Yes." Syf turned away from the rail to face me fully, expression solemn.

"Then, I will fight, too," she said decisively. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, and then away.

"You will kill for somebody you don't know, even though it pains you?" I asked. Syf tipped her head to the side.

"But you know him. And I am going to meet him, am I not?" Her response made me turn to face her, surprised. It was not the kind of reply I would have expected from her. Was she reconciled with her existence as a weapon? She was willing to fight?

_'No, not that,'_ I decided, looking her in the eye. _'She isn't giving in to the fate she'd been created for; she's making her own. This was a choice she made.'_

"Can you fight without becoming the Gigas?" I asked. "Because I will not be giving you any commands as Master. If you fight, you will fight as Syf."

She looked at me for a while, silver eyes unreadable. Her thoughts and emotions were guarded, and I couldn't sense much of anything through our link. Finally, she replied: "I can fight."

* * *

One of Enrique's Council members met us at the dock, introducing himself as Mateo Salvador.

"Their Highnesses were most pleased to receive word of your visit," the stork-like old man said as he led us to the train that would carry us to the Palace.

_ 'They won't be when they hear what we've got to say...'_ I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. We climbed into the train car silently. Salvador made small-talk with Vyse, inquiring after the Captain's health, and the performance of the _Delphinus._

"She's still flyin' like a dream," Vyse said with a measure of pride in his voice.

"Yes, we Valuans know how to engineer a ship," Salvador replied, "My son is currently working on a new engine design…"

I tuned out their conversation, and gazed out the window, mind elsewhere. I wondered when Twyblade would make his move, and how. I wondered how many ships he would actually have in his fleet, and if he had any other surprises like Syf up his sleeve. And, since I knew he wouldn't count me dead unless he was holding my severed head, I wondered if he had anything planned to counter the power having Syf gave us.

"Excuse me? Sir? Sir?"

"Hey! Lawrence!" I came back to the present with a jolt, barely managing to keep myself from jumping as first Salvador, then Vyse, called me. I stood and returned their looks calmly. Salvador was politely expressionless, but Vyse gave me an arch look, as if saying 'head in the clouds?' I ignored him as the Councilman led the way out of the train car onto a modestly ornate platform.

"This is the Emperor's private train, which he keeps for the use of visiting diplomats. When there are no dignitaries in residence at the Palace, His Highness has ordered that the train be run on the public tracks as a transport," Salvador said as Vyse, Aika, Fina, Syf, and I looked around.

"So these tracks are private as well?" I asked. Salvador nodded.

"They run from the Palace straight to the docks. The public railways are along paths more commonly used. Now, if you'll follow me?"

We walked up a flight of stairs to a set of doors flanked by two Valuan soldiers in uniforms that seemed more ceremonial than practical. I assumed, since the train and the tracks (and therefore that particular station) were used for visiting diplomats, that they were honour guards. Even the modest Enrique understood the need for a certain decorum in international relations.

The doors opened directly onto the lower floors of the Palace, and Salvador led us down a series of tastefully decorated corridors, praising the Emperor and Empress every step of the way. If I didn't know Enrique and Moegi, I would have sworn that the whole situation was contrived. But they were no more inclined to flaunting their virtues than Syf was to becoming an ax-murderer. They really did worry about the wellbeing of the people before their own; they really did pour most of the country's wealth into improving the standard of living. And if Salvador extolled their Highnesses' glory until he was blue in the face, it was because he truly believed every word he spoke, not because he was ordered to.

Really, it kind of made me sick, like eating too many sweets or something. Salvador went on about Enrique and Moegi like they were gods or saints or something. But then… he was old enough to have seen, experienced, and understood the poor leadership and terrible greed of the previous ruler. Maybe to him, Enrique and Moegi _were_ saints.

"Here we are, sirs and madams," the elderly man finally said, stopping by a seemingly random door in the hallway. He knocked twice and opened the door, bowing us through.

I entered the room behind Vyse, and everyone else followed me.

"Emperor, Empress," Vyse said, bowing in turn to each ruler. I mimicked his moves, while sneaking looks at my two old comrades, whom I had not seen in a little over a year.

Enrique looked older, undoubtedly due to the responsibilities he'd taken on as Emperor. He had also acquired, sometimes over the past year, a very confident and kingly aura. Something about his bearing, his manner, put you instantly at ease, made you trust him. He was standing ramrod straight, every inch the Emperor, and yet he still managed to look approachable and honest.

I switched my gaze to Enrique's wife, Moegi. The Yafutoman Princess, now Valuan Empress, was seated comfortably in a cushioned chair. Her pregnancy was just beginning to become obvious. I tried to think back to when I had first heard that the Empress was expecting…. It had to have been six months ago. Her face glowed with pleasure at seeing her friends.

"Vyse, Fina, Aika… So nice of you to visit again," Moegi said, smiling at them. She turned to me. "And Lawrence. It has been too long."

"Too long indeed, friend," Enrique agreed, stepping forward to offer a hand. I took it and gave it a firm shake.

"And now I'm afraid I have to make my visit a bittersweet one," I replied. "There is a rather urgent matter we need to discuss."

"Surely it can at least wait for introductions? I don't believe we've met your companion," Moegi interjected with a graceful gesture toward Syf. The purple-haired girl was watching the Emperor and Empress intently. I coughed lightly.

"Ah, well… that's a part of the urgent matter…"

* * *

I stood watching Enrique's face for his reaction, thinking dryly: _'I hope this is the last time I have to tell this story…I'm really getting tired of it.'_

Enrique stared at the carpet, seemingly deep in thought. Finally, he said, slowly: "I appreciate your efforts in getting this information to us. But now I have a question. What are you going to do now?"

"What am I—?" I echoed, surprised despite myself. "I'm going to try to stop Twyblade. I wasn't just going to warn you, step back, and not do anything."

"You will make this your fight?" Enrique asked, lifting his eyes to mine. I straightened up and said stiffly:

"This has been my fight since the beginning."

"_Evarisch_ fought for the peace and for the world as it is now," Syf said. "He cannot now let it be destroyed."

I didn't bother to wonder how she knew that; the answer was obvious. I added, "Not only that, but Twyblade would try to step all over me… and my friends. I won't allow that.

"Besides, I don't really agree with everything he's saying," I knew Aika was staring at me, but I pointedly ignored her. If she couldn't get past her 'ice man' image of me, that was her problem. "His logic is flawed."

Enrique searched my face a moment, before casting his gaze over all the others. "So, what happens now? Do I send my armada after Twyblade?"

"No. This is the Blue Rogues' problem, and the Blue Rogues will take care of it," Vyse chopped his hand through the air in a gesture of negation. Enrique's expression became puzzled.

"But then—"

"I think you're forgetting something important," Fina interrupted him gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You flew with us. You are a Blue Rogue."

"Yeah!" Aika exclaimed. "Once a Blue Rogue, always a Blue Rogue! You're one of us! Both of you."

"Will you sail with us again?" Vyse held out a hand toward the young Emperor. The Air Pirate grinned, "But you'll have to remember that _I'm_ the Captain."

Enrique grinned right back, and clasped Vyse's hand. "Aye aye, Captain."

The words sounded so strange coming out of the blond aristocrat's mouth that I had to choke back a snicker. I stepped forward.

"Well, this is touching, but might I redirect our attention back to the problem at hand?" My words were softened by the comradely thump on the shoulder I gave Enrique.

"True, we've made no plans on how to address this dilemma," the Emperor agreed, turning his grin on me for a second before sobering up.

"The Blue Rogue ships I command will stand against Twyblade," Vyse said. "I'm sure I can contact my father, and Gilder, and maybe some of the others who fought with us last time."

"If you need me to, I can send messages out with our transports," Moegi offered, "We trade with nearly every nation now, and Valuan merchant ships move quickly. If they come across any of your people, they can deliver your message."

"That might be good to do, in case I can't contact them," Vyse agreed. He thought some more, tapping his chin.

"We should attack first," Aika said. "Before Twyblade makes his move."

"Right," I nodded, "It would be better if we dictated where and when the battle took place. Then at least we have control over some of the conditions."

"Lawrence, what about…" Vyse trailed off with a glance at Syf.

"She will fight," I replied, paused to let that sink in, and added: "but not as a Gigas. I promised I would not force her to become a weapon, and I will keep my word."

"But can she fight if she isn't all… Gigas'd?" Aika asked. I lifted an eyebrow at the improvised word, but it was Syf who answered.

"They were afraid that I would be attacked when not under command, so they taught me to fight."

"I have to command her to destroy something for her to become the Gigas," I explained, when the others' faces showed confusion. "If I don't command her to, she can't. I guess the Glacians were paranoid enough to worry about training her to defend herself and her Master if the Master was unable to issue the command."

"Eh?" Vyse said. I reviewed what I had said, and what Syf had said, and sighed. The Glacians hadn't considered making the whole Gigas situation easy to understand, I suppose. Hell, I didn't understand most of it, and I was the one bound to the Gigas.

"The Master has to order the Gigas to destroy for her to actually become the Gigas. When not under such a command, she is somewhat vulnerable. The Glacians knew this and worried about somebody attacking her at that time, so they taught her how to defend herself." I said slowly. Comprehension dawned.

"Ah," Vyse said. "Well, if she can hold her own…"

He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So we still think Twyblade's base is near Ryu-kan's island?"

"That's the most likely spot," Fina replied.

"Then we'll sail in that direction in three days' time," Vyse declared. Enrique nodded.

"We'll wait for the others here during those three days?"

"Right. Everyone who's able to, will gather here and re-supply. Any others will have to catch up with us, because we can't afford to wait. On the fourth day, we sail."

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

* * *

Enrique and Moegi insisted that the crew of the _Delphinus_ be given quarters in the Palace, "at least for the night. Our people can take care of the _Delphinus._"

"But a captain should stay with his ship," protested Vyse.

"Not if the captain would get in the way of repairing the ship by doing so," Enrique refuted.

"The _Delphinus_ doesn't need any repairs…" Vyse scowled. Fina smiled behind her hand.

"Not any serious repairs no," agreed Enrique, "but I insist that you allow me to help out a friend by giving said friend's ship a little sprucing up. Just as I insist you allow me to be a proper host by offering you and your crew lodgings for the night."

Completely undone, Vyse made a strategic retreat and grudgingly agreed. "Okay, fine… Thanks."

"Alright, we're gonna get a little royal treatment in the Palace!" Aika exalted. Nothing in Arcadia could stop her from being cheerful.

* * *

The crew filled up one hallway in the plush and ornate Guests' Wing. Everyone had their own room, but while they joked and laughed that they wouldn't be able to stand ships' quarters after having so much room, the truth was that most were overwhelmed and slightly lost in so much space. The _Delphinus_ did provide separate rooms for every crewmember, but those rooms were (out of necessity) small; each could hold only a hammock and a small table. And the crewmembers who lived in them were used to that.

_'I wonder how many of them won't sleep in the bed, but rather rig up makeshift hammocks from the sheets,' _I pondered in amusement, contemplating the sheets of my own bed. _'I wonder how Syf is coping with it.'_

The amusement vanished. I had been forced to look over everything I knew about her and the Gigas (I couldn't help but think of them as two separate entities) earlier that day, once again bringing into focus just how limited my understanding was. I was tiring of that lack of knowledge even more than I was tiring of reciting my story.

_'I have three days before I face Twyblade, who doubtless knows more than I do about this,'_ I told myself. _'So I damn well better _learn._'_

And there was one place I could learn it from.

I stalked purposefully to the door of my room and flung it open, fully intending to get a complete explanation from—

Syf was standing right on the other side of the door, looking particularly waif-like. Suddenly and unexpectedly face-to-face with the very person I was storming out to meet, I stopped dead in my tracks and stared in blank surprise.

"I am… afraid…" she said hesitantly. I collected my scattered thoughts and set my jaw determinedly.

"And I'm confused. We need to talk." I gestured her into my room and shut the door behind her. Turning, I eyed her. She was standing in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She stared steadfastly at her feet, face white and scared-looking. Some of my irritation at her for not explaining things evaporated. "First of all, you said you're afraid? Of what?"

"Of being alone…" she faltered. "I was alone for so long. I don't want… to be left…. behind."

There was a beat, and then I replied, "Now see, that's why I'm confused. I know next to nothing about you and your past. And yet it's obviously still affecting you. I'm tired of this; would you talk sense for once?"

Her silver eyes darted up to my face and away, quick as lightning. "But the-"

"Yes, yes," I interrupted impatiently, voice sharp with sarcasm, "The link. I know. But forgive me if I neglect using it because I _don't understand how it works_."

Again that quick, almost frightened, glance. "I am sorry, _evarisch_."

I said nothing, relying on my dark expression to speak for me. I wanted answers, damn it. Syf fidgeted, shifting her stance.

"I can… show you," she offered, sounding terrified as she did so.

"Maybe you had better," I said. She shivered a little, her grip tightening on her shirt hem, and then she lifted her face very slowly. I met her gaze levelly… and fell into the memory.

_The top spun wildly, slowly running out of momentum until it rolled to a rest on the smooth surface of the floor. There were adults talking quietly behind me, but I was too occupied by the top to listen. I reached out my small hand- a child's hand- and set the top to spinning again. I chased it as it flew across the floor._

_ "Techa." One of the adults said behind me, in Glacian. "Little girl."_

_ I turned, and looked up to the cold face towering above me._

_ "You're coming with us now." The man said. I blinked uncomprehendingly, and took a step back, as if to run. But he bent and seized me, carrying me away. I cried out, filled suddenly with instinctive fear. My parents didn't even turn to watch as the man carried me away. I called for them, but they did not move. I was confused and frightened, and started crying. When my parents did not respond, I called out for the only other item of comfort my child's mind could think of: the top. I reached out little arms for it, lying forgotten on the floor, but the man did not stop._

_I cried bitterly the whole way to the place that man took me, but he didn't react, didn't even give any indication that he heard my sobs. He set me roughly down in a cold little room, and left, shutting the door behind him. I was alone in the room. I went to the door and beat at it fruitlessly with my little fists. There was no handle. My tears dissolved into pitiful whimpers, but still nobody came. Sick with crying, and tired, I curled up in a corner and fell asleep._

On some level, I knew that the small child whose life I was experiencing was a young Syf, but it almost seemed as if the emotions and sensations were my own. I could see everything clearly, like it was happening in the here and now. A lot of the following memories, however, were fragmented and confused. I recognized a few of them as the 'dreams' I had had.

_At first, all I could do was scream. But that didn't make them stop, didn't make any difference. So when they stuck the needles and knives into my skin, I ignored the pain._

_They broke open my mind and everything came flooding in—all of their thoughts. I screamed then, because of the ugliness of their minds. I knew each and every one of their sins, their evil acts. I knew their unkind thoughts about me, knew that in their eyes I was not a person. Then they started putting the walls of my mind back together with their needles and their spells, and it wasn't my mind anymore. There were things in the darkness with me._

_They cast Electres on me every time before they came into the small room where they kept me. It shattered my thoughts and I couldn't move, and then they took me to wherever they wanted. I was bound all the time. I couldn't move without their permission. When I could move it was only in one room and then they made me fight._

_I heard voices all the time, but mostly I didn't know what they were saying. But they sounded angry. Angry and hungry. I feared them._

_There was a small animal put in the moving room. I couldn't see it, but I could smell it. It had been injured and there was blood on it. I was very hungry… The voices became stronger, and I wavered, eyes closing. Then I opened my eyes and realized that there was a furry body in my hands and blood smeared across my face. I didn't remember moving… Bloody water dripped from my chin and I reached up to my face in wonder. There was water falling from my eyes…_

_I started to scream when they ordered me to kill. They didn't like it, and they hurt me then. They were very angry, and they tried to do things to me to make me obey them. But then the voices got really mad, and I lost myself in them, and they took my body and did horrible things and then the men hurting me were afraid…_

Syf's memories released me and I staggered. I panted like I had been running. It was moment before I could lift my head and look at Syf. She was crying and shaking.

"Syf," I gasped between breaths. "Syf. What in Deep Sky—?"

"They made me a Gigas; _that_ was a Gigas…" she sobbed. Impulsively, I put my arms around her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I said over and over again. It was bad enough for me to experience, and I only got the memories secondhand. Syf had lived them.

There had been so much pain and hurting in her life, no wonder she couldn't stand killing. And all through that she had been alone, alone in that cold little room, forsaken by her parents. That explained why she feared being alone, that and the fact that when she was alone, the voices were clear and obvious.

Those voices… it was like_ they_ were, collectively, the Gigas, and Syf was just a vessel. Or maybe… they were the darker aspects of Syf, separated from the rest of her and magnified. And they took her over when the opening presented itself, like when a Master gave Syf an order.

"But you promised not to." Her voice was muffled against my greatcoat. I realized I still held her, and released her abruptly. "You promised not to give an order."

"That's right," I said. "And I won't."

"And you protect Syf," she said, regressing back to the way she had first talked. I nodded. She held my eyes with hers. "What would happen if you leave?"

What would happen if I leave? I wouldn't desert Syf; my sense of honour would prevent me from doing that. But… What would happen if I leave?

There was a battle coming up, a battle against Twyblade. The man had already shown his willingness to kill me, and I was sure he wasn't the only Greyling thirsting for my blood. What if I died? What would happen to Syf? If Meshin lived, she'd be forced to go to him as the next highest-ranking Glacian. But what if both Meshin and I died? Would Syf seek out the other obscure Glacian descendants? And how would they react to her? Would they understand what was going on? Would they pity Syf as I did, or would they try to take advantage of her? Or would they simply just try to get rid of the nuisance and kill her?

Things were getting more and more complicated.

"I don't know," I muttered finally. "I don't know."


	6. Chapter 20 thru 24

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**

* * *

I couldn't send Syf back to her room alone, not when I knew the torment such an action would cause her. Being alone in any room, even one as plush and warm as the ones we'd been given, called up the unpleasant memories I had been privy to that evening. Even on the _Delphinus_ she had not been alone, sharing a room with Aika. And before that, she and I had been together in the sick bay of the _Windsoul_.

I let her have the bed, and I slept in one of the cushioned, high-backed chairs that furnished the room, my greatcoat serving as a cover. I didn't sleep well, and neither did Syf. I listened to her tossing and turning for most of the night. I dozed lightly for a few hours near dawn, but that was it.

In the morning, Vyse was in the hallway when Syf and I left my room. He opened his mouth to say something, his eyebrows drawing together, but he took one look at my face and shut it wordlessly. Wise of him.

Vyse had given Moegi the message he wanted the Valuan merchants to carry with them when they sailed out, on the chance that they ran into any of our allies, the day before. Luck was with us in the fact that the _Claudia_ got the message within hours of their departure, and so Gilder arrived at the Valuan Capital about midday.

Vyse received word of the Rogue's arrival and brought Fina, Aika, and I with him to greet Gilder at the docks. The _Claudia's_ captain grinned when he saw us, crossed the boarding plank with broad strides, and clapped Vyse on the shoulder.

"Well, if it isn't the Legend! Still in the company of your two lovely ladies, I see," Gilder stepped past Vyse to give Fina and Aika a courtly bow. They smiled, but were otherwise not fooled by Gilder's antics. He turned to me. And noticed Syf over my shoulder.

I had brought her for the same reasons I had allowed her to stay in my room the previous night; I hadn't really wanted to, shying away from the idea of introducing her to Gilder. It wasn't that I didn't like him, or trust him, because I did. It was just that he _was_ something of a womanizer, and I didn't know how Syf would react to that kind of thing.

"And who is this?" he asked cheerfully, taking a step around me. I cut swiftly in front of him.

"That is Syf, and she is _very _off_-_limits," I told him with a bit of steel in my voice. Gilder looked very taken aback.

"Oh… Your wife?" He asked, surprise evident. I felt my eyebrow twitch in response. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that much that he jumped to that conclusion, but the fact was I hadn't even considered Syf in that context, so it was entirely unexpected.

"Not exactly. Get somebody else to give you the story; I'm tired of telling it," I said shortly. I was also physically tired from lack of sleep, and that made me not-so-welcoming. A small part of my brain reminded me reluctantly that this man was supposed to be an ally of mine, and as such was deserving of a little civility. I cleared my throat and tried to sound sincere. "Welcome to the fleet."

"Thanks," Gilder said, almost questioningly.

"It's been a long week," Vyse said apologetically. "And I'll tell you what's going on if you want, but it'll have to wait until everyone who's coming is here."

"Okay," agreed the older man. "Your message didn't explain much, except that we're going against another lunatic leader."

"Something like that," I said.

* * *

Late at night on the first day, Centime's ship docked. His crew was lodged in the Guests' Wing along with the crews of the _Claudia _and _Delphinus_. Syf was very taken with the fatherly captain, and when she wasn't with me, she was hovering in his shadow. Centime, for his part, was immensely patient with her. Although… I suppose that's just how he is.

Enrique scrounged up a veritable army of mechanics and engineers to go over every inch of our ships and fix what needed to be fixed or improve what could be improved. They worked feverishly, as Clara's arrival late on the second day gave them a total of four ships to service.

Clara was thrilled to see Gilder again, and though he theatrically bewailed his suffering, he was happy to see her as well. Despite himself, he had come to like the audacious female pirate. Personally, I would have shot down anyone who tried to chase me around Arcadia in an irritating attempt to win my heart. But that's just me. For a while, Gilder had run, trying to avoid Clara like a plague, but eventually he started letting her catch him. He evidently didn't mind her stalking as much as he put on, because there were rumors of a steady relationship between the two. It was all pretty foolish, in my opinion.

Nobody else came, and so on the dawning of the fourth day, the four ships that had gathered made ready to sail.

"Well, I'm assuming that any others will be able to catch up with us along the way," Vyse said as he stood on the bridge of the _Delphinus_. He had his arms crossed and was staring out at the other ships as they got prepared.

"Should we send another missive with Moegi's merchant ships?" I suggested, "One that says where and when we're sailing?"

Vyse thought that over, and nodded decisively. "Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll have Marco run and tell Enrique. Then he can get a servant or something to carry the request to his wife. MARCO!"

The shout brought the kid at a run. Looking at the youth, I was surprised at what changes a year of sailing under Vyse had wrought. Gone was the snot-nosed brat I remembered. He didn't have that perpetual sneer anymore, for one thing; his freckled face was cheerful as he saluted Vyse. And he'd put on some height, though he still had the lanky appearance of somebody not quite finished growing.

"You called, Captain?" he asked, grinning cheekily. Vyse outlined the message, and Marco repeated it back before taking off to deliver it.

"You actually whipped that kid into a disciplined sailor," I remarked when Marco was gone. Vyse gave a crooked smile.

"Well, he and I understood each other. And he had a lot of potential," he turned back to the windows. "So where's Syf?"

"Watching Centime get his crew in order," I replied. "She'll come when we're ready to sail."

Vyse made no answer, so I went to see if any help was needed carrying the final crates of supplies onboard.

When at last we were all prepared, the bridge crew of the _Delphinus_ got to their positions and turned expectant faces toward Vyse. The captain did not disappoint, giving everyone a wide grin and saying, "Let's head out!"

"Aye aye!" we all chorused. The floor thrummed under our feet as the engines came to life and the _Delphinus'_ screws turned, propelling the ship forward. Vyse watched as the gates of what once had been the Grand Fortress grew larger in the bridge's windows, before turning to Aika. She stood off to the side, staring out the window with Fina. She turned around when Vyse said her name.

"Can you see the other ships? Are they following us?" The captain questioned. Beside him, Enrique cleared his throat.

"If I may interject…" The blond continued at Vyse's puzzled nod. "I had my mechanics install a ship-to-ship radio on the _Primrose_, and Centime's ship; the _Delphinus _and _Claudia_ were each already equipped with one. So you can ask for yourself if they're under way yet. I showed them how to operate the radios already."

"Ah, so that's what you were doing just before we set sail," Vyse replied as he moved toward the radio. After fiddling with a few knobs, he leaned down to the speaker and spoke loudly and clearly into it.

"Gilder, Clara, Centime… Can you hear me?" Vyse flicked off a switch and waited. After a moment, there was a click and a brief spat of crackling and popping noises before Centime's voice came through.

"This is Centime, I can hear you."

"Gilder here. I got ya."

"It's Clara. I can hear you too." Vyse hit the switch and leaned in again.

"Centime, are you guys all good back there?" Vyse asked.

"Sailing smoothly, Captain Vyse."

"And you guys, Gilder? Clara?"  
"Everything's wonderful!" exclaimed Clara's voice.

"Same here." Gilder added. Vyse nodded, forgetting that they couldn't see him. Out loud, he replied:

"Great. Let's go save Arcadia!"

"You know, you're altogether too dramatic," I informed him as he turned away from the console. "'Let's go save Arcadia'?"

"Hey, it's true," Vyse retorted, grinning. I just grunted in response.

"Well, we have four ships to stand against Twyblade," Enrique remarked. "Do you think it will be enough?"

"I don't know…" Vyse said, fingering his glass eyepatch.

"We should probably assume that Twyblade has us outnumbered," I said. "It's always a bad idea to underestimate your opponent."

"That is true," Vyse admitted, and then he sighed. "I just wish…"

"What?" Aika asked, when he didn't finish his sentence.

"I wish my father had come," Vyse replied, sullenly. Fina and Aika traded looks, and then Fina—ever the soother of hurt feelings—spoke up.

"I'm sure he'll come, Vyse. He may not have gotten the message in time for him to make it in those three days," she said gently.

I remembered then that Vyse's father, Dyne, was a Blue Rogue legend in his own right. He and his crew had also joined us for that final battle against Ramirez, Galcian, and the Silver Gigas. And it wasn't just Dyne, either. There had been others, besides Clara, Gilder, and Centime. But I didn't expect the others (except Dyne, if he got the message) to join us this time. Baltor was a Black Pirate; what Twyblade was doing likely wouldn't bother him a whit. And Daigo, Moegi's brother, was the sole ruler of Yafutoma now; he couldn't just leave his country at the drop of a hat. Enrique could leave everything in his wife and Empress' capable hands; Daigo had no wife, and besides, Vyse had said that this was the Blue Rogues' problem. If Daigo came, it would be in a Yafutoman naval vessel. We didn't want that.

We Blue Rogues take care of our own. Even if it means putting down one of our number who'd gone bad.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One**

* * *

I sighed and glared down at Vyse, who lay folded over the desk in his quarters, head pillowed on his arms and eyes shut in sleep.

"Captain Vyse. Captain," I said loudly, for the fifth time. For the fifth time, he did not move.

_'This is ridiculous,'_ I thought in irritation. I kicked Vyse's chair, jolting him, but he just stirred a little, rearranged his arms, and settled back into sleep. My lips twisted in annoyance.

I bent down and put my mouth right next to his ear and nearly shouted: "Captain!"

"Wha—!" He jerked up, clipping my chin with his head. The blow jolted my teeth together with a click, and I backed away rubbing my chin ruefully. Vyse shook the last cobwebs of sleep out of his head, blinking at me. "Lawrence? What is it?"

"You're needed on the bridge," I told him, with a bit of a glare. He stood, rubbed his face with the heel of one hand, and came around the desk.

"Why? What's going on?" he asked.

"You're father is here," I replied over my shoulder as I left the room. I ignored the startled exclamation behind me as I went back to the helm.

"My father?' Vyse said, as he stumbled onto the bridge. "He's here?"

"Here, Vyse," Aika said from where she stood by the ship-to-ship radio. Vyse hurried over to her, flipped the switch, and demanded:

"You there, Dad?"

"I am," replied Dyne.

"You're LATE, old man!" Vyse informed his father with a mix of good humor and annoyance. There was a pause over the radio.

"Nice to see you, too," Dyne said dryly. Then his voice became serious. "So you're going after this troublesome pirate Twyblade?"

"That's right. I can tell you the details later, but suffice to say he's bad news. Will you help?"

"What do you think I'm here for, son?" Dyne snorted. "Of course I'll help! I've run afoul of a couple of this Twyblade's cronies, and I'd like to correct their mistake in bothering me."

Vyse was grinning fit to split his face. "Good. We're heading toward the air space near Hamachou Island. We believe Twyblade's base is somewhere in that area."

"Got it. I'll tack myself on to your little fleet and match your speed. Dyne out." Vyse straightened up with a smug look on his face.

"Well," he said, turning to walk up to his captain's chair. "Now we have _five _ships to face Twyblade."

_'Let's hope it's enough,'_ I thought dryly, but refrained from saying anything aloud. Vyse raked his fingers through his hair, stretched, and walked over to me.

"Why don't you take a break? I'll man the helm for a while," he offered.

"Alright," I said easily, stepping aside. It wouldn't be long before we were close enough to our assumed destination to really have to start keeping an eye out for enemy ships, and I knew I'd regret it if I let myself get tired. I looked to the corner where Syf sat, letting Fina re-braid her hair. I held out a hand questioningly, "Syf?"

She leapt to her feet, barely letting Fina tie off the braid before skipping to me. I led her off the bridge, asking: "Are you hungry?"

She nodded and informed me: "Urala promised something special for the noon-day meal today!"

"Hmm," I said. My stomach rumbled; I was famished. We got to the galley, and quickly located Urala.

"So what's this I hear about something special being served today?" I asked the meek Yafutoman cook. She blushed and stared intently at the pot she was stirring.

"Oh, well… I, um, I found some Pirril in the drag nets this morning and… um…" she said quietly.

"Pirril?" I said, surprised. "Those are… well, I haven't tasted one in six years, I think."

"I made dumplings," Urala said, and quickly made up two trays as Syf and I watched. She poured the sauce she had been stirring over the dumplings and handed each of us a tray.

I nodded my thanks, mouth watering in anticipation, and went to a table to eat. Pirril was a delicacy not many got to taste. It was hard to catch, and had to be eaten the day it had been caught or it would go foul. I'd had it twice in my life.

_'And it's about to be thrice…'_

"Oh!" Syf said suddenly, through a full mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared down at her tray. "Good!"

She dove right back into the food with an enthusiasm that was almost frightening. I hid my grin by stuffing a bite of the Pirril dumpling in my mouth. It was delicious, and I soon found myself attacking my tray with the same alacrity as the purple-haired girl beside me. Unfortunately, the dumplings were soon gone, and we were left staring almost wistfully at our empty trays.

_'At least if we die now, we can die happy.'_ I thought with sort of grim good humor. I stood and brought my tray back to the kitchen, with Syf following. We placed our trays in the sink, and Urala looked up from chopping up some sort of vegetable.

"Thanks," I nodded to her. I briefly considered telling her how good the dumplings had been, but the words stuck in my throat. I never was very good at that sort of thing anyway. I turned to leave, but Syf took matters into her own hands.

"It was very, very good," she informed Urala solemnly. The cook blushed and looked pleased. Syf turned and exited the galley, and I followed, feeling a little foolish. I had never been used to giving compliments or praise, but it hadn't bothered me until Syf. I wonder if that was because of her presence in my mind?

I shook my head. _'Whatever. Forget worrying about that; right now, I just want some sleep.'_

I had altered my quarters aboard the _Delphinus_ so that there was enough room to rig up a second hammock for Syf. She still insisted on sleeping in the same room as I, and obstinately refused when I tried to persuade her to room with Aika.

"You roomed with her on the journey to Valua, why can't you now?" I had demanded, exasperated.

"I hadn't released the memories," she'd told me, face downcast. That, of course, had drained all the fight out of me, and I'd sighed and gone to get another hammock.

"Try to get some rest," I told her now, as I shrugged off my greatcoat and kicked off my boots. "I don't know when our next chance will be."

She nodded and clambered into her hammock. I settled myself comfortably, and waved a hand at her. Obediently, she flicked a small spell at the lantern on the table, extinguishing the light. She had revealed that particular ability a couple nights ago, with the electric lights in Valua, and I had to say, I liked it better than the 'turning-off-the-light-and-then-fumbling-to-find-the-bed-in-the-dark' method.

"Thanks," I mumbled, closing my eyes. Her only reply was to send a feeling of contentment down our link.

* * *

Standing on the bridge and looking out the wide windows, none of us looked particularly happy. If looks could kill, the five-strong fleet of Greyling ships lurking just on the horizon would have burst into flames and sunk in mere seconds. As it was, we gave them our best heated glares and tried to decide what to do.

"They'll spot us before we can even fire a single shot off. If they haven't done so already." Gilder's voice came over the radio tinged with disgust.

"They have," I muttered. Aika glanced over her shoulder at me.

"Why do you say that?" she asked. I pointed back out the window mutely, and she turned to follow the line of my finger. "What? I don't get it."

"The ships are moving to form a wall between us and their base. Can you see how they're turning broadside as well?" I said. Aika nodded.

"Uh-huh. So… they're turning to give their cannons a clean shot at us?"

"Yes," Vyse answered her before I could. "But we'll get them!"

"Oh? We will? And just how will we manage that?" I asked, lifting a sardonic eyebrow. He smiled.

"_We _have the Moonstone Cannon. _They _don't_."_

"Ah," I replied, remembering. I couldn't help the rather sinister smirk that spread across my face.

"So Vyse, honey, what do you want the rest of us to do?" Clara asked from the _Primrose._ Vyse considered, resting a hand on the pommel of one of his cutlasses.

"Array yourselves behind the _Delphinus_ in a wedge formation. We will head it, fire a couple shots of the Moonstone Cannon as we approach, and hopefully scatter the Greylings a bit; if not, hit them," he finally decided.

"Aye aye!" chorused Gilder, Clara, Centime, and Dyne.

"They'll still be dangerous. Prepare yourselves for a battle," the young Air Pirate cautioned.

"Don't teach the Arcwhale to swim," replied Dyne dryly. Vyse colored slightly.

"I didn't mean to imply you didn't know that already; I was just… worried." He said sheepishly.

"It's alright, son," Dyne replied gruffly. "I know what you meant. Getting into position now."

"Okay. We'll fire the Moonstone cannon in about an hour, and we'll try to get at least three shots off before engaging the enemy close-range." Vyse informed the other ships' captains, his voice gaining back its confidence.

"Let's hope that the Greylings don't jump the gun… no pun intended," I said. Aika turned to stare at me.

"You know, that's not _fair_," she complained. I gave her a look, eyebrow rising questioningly.

"I can't figure you out!" she said plaintively. "I think you're this cold, humorless statue-man and then you turn around and make jokes! It's just not fair."

I sniffed. "I can hardly be blamed for your inability to understand the simple fact that people have different moods aside from simply 'peppy.'"

"What?" demanded Aika, eyes narrowing. She put her hands on her hips. Vyse, I noticed, was having a hard time holding in his laughter; Fina was hiding her mouth behind her hands, and Enrique looked politely amused.

I ignored them all, and stared vaguely out the bridge viewport.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

* * *

I once served under a captain who said that all your tactics and strategies are obsolete as soon as the battle begins. Never had I known the truth of this until now. We got one Moonstone cannon shot off, but then…

Well, the shot was exactly where we wanted it to be, but the Greylings weren't. Despite the abruptness of the attack, they managed to split and get their ships turned from the path of fire. The most the Moonstone cannon did was burn away some of the planking on one of the ships and singe the sails of another. Both were still viable opponents; the damage was superficial.

"That's not how it's supposed to work," Vyse said irritably. "Bring her to port and prepare the secondary cannons."

It was disturbing how quickly the Greyling ships closed the distance between us. They moved to flank the _Delphinus_, attempting to surround us and cut us off from the other Blue Rogues, but Vyse spat out orders like a cannon spat out shots: quickly, and in a tone that booked no argument. The _Delphinus_ came around to show one of the Greyling ships her portside, and the cannon turrets there thundered. Two shots hit the Greyling ship low on her hull; the third shot went wide of her stern.

"She's listing some, Captain!" Tikatika said from the crow's nest, voice distorted by the _Delphinus'_ communication system.

"Get another volley off, quickly!" Vyse shouted, and the order was carried down to the gun deck. At that time, the other Greyling ships fired _their_ cannons.

The deck under my feet shuddered, forcing me to alter my stance to keep my balance. Syf, who had been standing beside me, dropped to the floor in terror and wrapped her arms around my leg, pressing her face against the side of my knee. Through the windows, I could see the puff of smoke and dust that blossomed on the _Ironclad_, the result of a direct hit.

"Are we alright?" demanded our captain, and Hans, the young mechanic Vyse had recruited one year ago, replied.

"Everything is okay, Captain! Nothing important was hit!" Before the kid was even finished talking, Vyse was flying toward the ship-to-ship radio.

"Centime, everything alright over there?" There was a long pause.

"We have a small injury to one of our gunners, but nothing too terrible. We're still behind you all the way."

"Good. Work with Gilder and try to catch that Greyling ship to your starboard in a pincer attack!" Vyse told the _Ironclad_'s captain. I felt my eyebrows rise.

_'Well well well… I didn't know Vyse knew any battle tactics. Granted, pincer movements are simple tactics, but still… He's gotten better in the last year. More experienced.'_

"Lawrence!" Vyse said without turning away from the windows. "Turn our bow directly at that ship!"

I followed the line of his outstretched finger and set my eyes on the Greyling vessel in question. "Aye aye, Captain!"

"Is the Moonstone Cannon recharged yet?" he asked Fina, who inspected the gauges in front of her and nodded. "Then fire as soon as we have a clear shot!"

The _Delphinus _shook again as a cannon ball crashed into the aft deck. Vyse caught himself on the radio console as the unexpected tremor knocked him off his feet. He looked up with a clenched jaw.

"Who's shooting at us now?"

"Captain! There's a ship coming up behind us!" Tikatika warned. Vyse whirled, jamming the buttons of the radio forcefully, eyes wide and intense.

"Who?" he demanded. Tikatika's reply was immediate.

"The _Lopez_." I let out the breath I'd been unconsciously holding. It wasn't Twyblade's ship. We wouldn't face him just yet.

A cannon shot sailed over the deck, rather close to the bridge. Aika flinched at the sound of tortured air that it trailed with it.

"We've sunk one!" Gilder's grim pronouncement fell upon our ears like a blessing. Vyse's face set in determination.

"Turn the ship as if we were fleeing."

"A..aye sir," I replied, wondering briefly what he was about. I brought the ship around, and we slid away from the attacking Greylings.

"Lawrence," Vyse said calmly as we retreated, "when we get about ten ship-lengths away from that Greyling vessel, I want you to turn us back around and sail at her as if we were going to ram her."

My gaze flicked momentarily across his face, as if I could somehow divine his intentions from his expression, but there was nothing telling in the set of his chin, nor in his eyes. I nodded in acknowledgement of his command.

As the _Delphinus_ drew away from the other ship, shots continued to fly through the air about her, but we escaped any significant damage as our abrupt change of direction and speed threw off their aim.

"We're ten ship-lengths away," I warned Vyse. "Now bringing her around."

"Increase our speed!" Vyse said, "And ready the secondary starboard cannons!"

Hand over hand I turned the wheel, the _Delphinus _responding by swinging almost violently around in a complete 180º turn. The ship's engines thrummed even louder, and she surged forward. The Greyling ship grew very large very quickly in our window.

"Captain?" I said, not believing that he would really ram his precious _Delphinus _into the other ship. Vyse gritted his teeth and didn't answer my unspoken question.

"Vyse!" Cried Fina as we drew even closer to the Greylings. They were getting over their shock, and their cannons would not miss at such a close range. Vyse hesitated.

"Dios!" Enrique said vehemently. "Vyse, _now_!"

"Swing 'er around again, and fire the starboard cannons!" Vyse roared. I was already turning on 'around.' Once our cannons had a clear shot, they fired. The sound of the shot was nearly one with the sound of the hit, we were so close. The Greyling vessel exploded in a shower of wood splinters and ash, a great gaping hole blown in its side. It sank almost immediately.

"That's two ships sunk," Fina said quietly, sorrow in her voice.

"Kill or be killed, Fina," I told her grimly. "Don't waste your time mourning them. They made their choice, and if the Greylings had their way, the dead would be many."

"I…I know…" she said.

"Hey what's your problem? Don't be so mean, Lawrence!" Aika flared.

"I can hardly be blamed for the cruelty of truth."

"Hey, knock it off, all of you!" Vyse shouted, "We're still in the middle of a _battle_!"

"It was _his_ fault," Aika mumbled. Both Vyse and I ignored that fallacious comment.

"Turn thirty degrees to port. Let's see how the others are d—" Vyse was cut off as the radio came to life, crackling and popping and generally making a lot of incomprehensible noise.

"…yse…Re…eat. We…urting…Sorry." The few syllables that came through, coupled with the fact that the quality of the message was poor, did not bode well.

"What was that? Repeat, repeat! What'd you say?" Vyse questioned frantically. He fumbled with the dials on the radio.

"We… retreating…much damage… Clara out."

"Damn it…" Vyse growled.

"Captain Vyse, the _Primrose_ is retreating. She looks bad." Tikatika informed us.

"I know, Tikatika, thank you." Vyse replied, then he stepped back from the radio and looked around the bridge. He said: "Clara has taken too much damage. She can't continue the fight. Now we're down to four ships."

"I will cast Increm on the others," Fina said. At this, Syf, who had seated herself at my feet and was clinging to my leg as if it were a life preserver, stirred. She carefully turned her head so her face wasn't hidden between her arm and my knee and said:

"I'll help. I can cast the spells, too."

"Alright. Thank you," Fina replied kindly, holding out a hand for Syf. "Come, we'll do it now."

Syf slowly released her grip on me and stood. She walked delicately over to Fina as if she fully expected the floor to suddenly heave and toss her into the air. I watched her briefly, and then turned my attention back to my job, wondering as I did so: _'How did the Glacians ever think that _she _could become a weapon?'_

"Hey Vyse, I've got an annoying gnat on my tail, you think you could swat it for me?" Gilder asked.

"Aye, we'll take care of it," Vyse replied, voice dark. I almost felt sorry for the Greyling ship; it was obvious Vyse was feeling particularly vindictive after the loss of Clara, and that he was going to take malicious pleasure in smiting his next opponent. Of course, the operative word in that thought is 'almost.' Perhaps I would have felt sorry, had I not been feeling the same lust for revenge as Vyse. But I was, so the ship was going to eat it.

Looking back, I realize that it was probably that mentality that doomed us. Oh, we sank the Greyling ship all right, but not before their cannons took a bite out of us.

"Captain…" I said into the silence as the _Delphinus_ stopped shaking from the explosions. At my tone, his head whipped around, his glass eye-patch glinting. Quietly I told him: "There's a slight problem."

"Vyse!" Enrique shouted, "We're heading straight for the rest of the Greyling fleet!"

"Lawrence?" Vyse asked, looking vaguely worried. I think he had a good idea what I was going to say.

"That last shot took out our rudder. We have no way to steer."

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

* * *

Vyse cursed, looked out the window at the looming Greyling ships, and cursed again. I had to agree with the sentiment. In only a few short moments we were going to plow straight into the enemy fleet, unable to steer and already damaged. Our outlook was decidedly grim.

"Dad!" shouted Vyse. After a pause, Dyne's voice crackled over the ship-to-ship radio.

"I'm a little busy right now, son. What do you want?"

"I've lost my rudder. Can you pick up my crew as they take off in the lifeboats?" The shock felt by the crew on the bridge was palpable; we hadn't thought that Vyse would abandon ship. Certainly we understood why, but we all knew Vyse and knew that he _never_ gave up. Abandoning ship felt almost like defeat, and that word was simply not in Vyse's vocabulary.

"Aye, I can do that. What about you?" Dyne replied.

"Standby for receiving my crew," was all our Captain said in response. He switched to the overcom. "Attention all hands, abandon ship. Please board the lifeboats and launch. You will be picked up upon clearing the _Delphinus_. Repeat: all hands abandon ship!"

"Vyse?" Aika said. The door to the bridge opened, and a pale-faced Fina and Syf entered.

"What's going on?" Fina asked.

"My father will pick up the crew, but the ship is heading straight for that group of Greylings. It's not likely to survive the encounter."

"When you say 'crew,' you are not referring to yourself, are you?" Enrique stated rather than asked.

"No, I'm not. And I'm not talking about you guys either," the Captain replied. He added: "That is, if you're willing to come with me."

"What are you planning?" I asked. I knew that whatever it was, it wouldn't involve dying. At least, it wouldn't involve passively dying.

"We're going to board one of the Greyling ships and take it over."

"Right," we agreed easily. And then we moved quickly. The _Delphinus _had too much speed for us to waste time. We seized grappling hooks and weapons, as the rest of the crew pushed off in the lifeboats, and readied ourselves. This was what Blue Rogues did best: boarding and commandeering. We were prepared in seconds, standing poised on the deck.

"It's best if we pair off!" shouted Enrique over the sound of the wind and cannons. Vyse nodded.

"Fina, you're with me! Aika, pair up with Enrique. Lawrence…" Vyse shouted, and I interrupted with a nod.

"Syf!" She came to me. In a low voice, I asked: "Do you know how to use a grappling hook?"

She shook her head. Completely forgetting that she could simply take the knowledge from our bond, I said: "Okay, you'll have to hold onto me tightly, alright? I'm going to swing us both onto the Greyling ship."

"Ready?" Vyse roared. I looked up. A Greyling ship, unable to move completely out of the way of the runaway_ Delpinus,_ was pulling up alongside us. We could see the deckhands pointing and shouting. The cannons were being loaded. "_NOW!"_

Our grappling hooks flashed through the air, catching on the rigging of the other ship. I prepared to throw myself across the gap…

"SYF!" I could hardly believe my eyes as the purple-haired slip of a girl took a sudden running jump over the railing, plunged through the air—

-and landed with a light _thump_ on the opposite deck. In the middle of the opposite deck… which was crawling with enemies. Shit! I shook off my surprise quickly and jumped, swinging across to land next to her. I had my cutlass unsheathed even before I had straightened completely.

"That was foolish," I muttered to her. "You're unarmed!"

She didn't reply, but shifted closer. There were four other _thud_s as Vyse, Fina, Aika, and Enrique landed. We formed a loose circle, facing outwards.

"We've been boarded!"

"Get them!"

"Fire the cannons! There may be more!"

Vyse grinned cheekily at the shouting deckhands. "Good morning! We're Blue Rogues…"

"…And we'll be relieving you of your ship now," I finished for him, and lashed out.

I remembered my promise to Syf, and seized her hand at the start of the fight, keeping her behind me and away from the action. I backed up until she was sandwiched between me and the wall. She squeezed my hand, and I suddenly felt my movements and reactions speed up.

_'Quicka,'_ I realized. _'She's helping in the best way she can.'_

"To the bridge!" Vyse was shouting, "Take the bridge! Quickly!"

I acted without thinking, lunging forward and sprinting toward the door that led from the deck to the interior of the ship. A deckhand tried to cut me off, but I slashed him across the chest and slammed the hilt of my cutlass up into his jaw, knocking him away. From the corner of my eye, I saw Fina's Silver pet-weapon-thing, Cupil, attack another Greyling. His scream was cut off as Cupil ingested his head. Things seemed to be well taken care of on deck.

_'The bridge, the bridge,'_ I thought, _'must take the bridge.'_

I was running faster than I ever had before, yet I barely felt winded. I wondered if that was because of Syf, or if it was just the fighting-high I was in. By some miracle of luck, I found my way straight to the bridge without being slowed down by any Greylings. I rushed down the catwalk that ended at my desired destination.

_'I hope they aren't waiting for us…'_ I took a moment to worry, even as my eyes were fixed on the door that led to the bridge.

_'I will stop them.'_ Syf told me silently. I wanted to ask what she meant, but then we were at the door and there was no time for hesitation. We exploded through. There was a split second when I took in the sight of the six Greylings at their stations, and then, as one, they shouted, threw up their arms, and leaped backwards. Their shouts were overlaid by a _fwumph_ sound as the air in front of their faces abruptly ignited with a Pyri spell, forcing them to back away from their stations and putting them on the defensive.

_'Ah, so that's what she meant,'_ the calm and calculating portion of my mind commented, as my body continued to fight. Before the Greylings had recovered, I was among them. I smashed the fist holding my cutlass into the helmsman's face, feeling something crunch beneath my knuckles. He fell away from the wheel, hands at his face. He writhed for a moment, and then was still.

"Lawrence, take the helm!" Vyse's voice cut through the chaos of the fight as he bounded into the fray, dual cutlasses gleaming cold silver.

"Moons, give me strength!" Fina intoned as she lifted a hand to direct her spell at an unfortunate Greyling. The resulting scream of pain ended in a gurgle. I blinked and looked around. The bridge was clear. The bodies of six Greylings lay scattered, motionless. I ran the flat of my blade across my trouser-leg, and sheathed the now-clean cutlass swiftly.

"Will we go back to the fleet?" questioned Fina.

"No," I growled. I stared with narrowed eyes out the bridge windows. "We go to face _that_ ship."

The _Windsoul_ sailed into view, emerging from behind a nearby island. It was fresh and undamaged; Twyblade had obviously not taken part in the battle from the start. I felt my lip curl in scorn.

_'Coward!' _I wanted to spit the words into his face, _'What were you doing all this time? Hiding in your pathetic little base? Why not come out and face us from the start?'_

The two ships, ours and his, sailing slowly toward each other. Neither vessel readied its cannons by some unspoken agreement. Not moving my gaze from the _Windsoul, _I said: "Vyse, could you take the helm for a moment?"

I didn't wait for an answer; I let go of the wheel, and stalked purposefully out the door. Syf caught up with me as I strode down the catwalk to the deck.

"Well, look who it is!" shouted Tresa from the deck of the _Windsoul_, as the ships pulled alongside each other. She gave me a particularly nasty grin, a threatening baring of teeth, and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Tresa," I growled, more to myself than to her.

"Lawrence," she said mockingly. "So nice to see you again."

"Tresa," I raised my voice. "Where is Twyblade? I wish to speak with him."

"Oh the Captain's on the island," she replied flippantly. "He can't be bothered with you right now; he's got a fleet to command."

"So the coward isn't even fighting his own battles anymore? How… disappointing…" Tresa's face fell at my words, all trace of her smirk gone.

"Bastard!" she snarled. "I'll _kill_ you for that!"

_'What is it' _I wondered absently, _'that makes it so that insane people follow insane leaders? Is it that like calls to like? Because I know I've heard this all before… one year ago…'_

"We'll see." I replied calmly. I raised my hand, hoping that Vyse, up in the bridge, would see and understand what the gesture meant. It seemed he did, because our commandeered vessel veered away from the _Windsoul_, and picked up speed. Syf and I watched our enemy drop away as our deck pitched left into the turn.

"She wants to hurt you," Syf told me solemnly.

"I know."

"But she won't," Syf continued, sounding sure. "She can't."

"She might," I said, ever the realist. But the purple head at my shoulder shook slowly from side to side.

"No. She can't touch you. She isn't good enough, and her anger cripples her," I looked at Syf with some surprise, but she didn't notice. She was still staring at the _Windsoul_. "Some people can use their anger to become stronger, but she can't. Hers only blinds her."

Syf's silver eyes flicked up to my face and she added, matter-of-factly, "This will be a short fight."

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

* * *

It didn't take long for Tresa to fire her first salvo. It missed us by a good margin. Turning from where he stood watching the _Windsoul_'s maneuverings, Vyse gave me an incredulous look.

"Is she for real?" He asked. "I almost feel bad, fighting against somebody as poorly skilled as her."

"I have no qualms about blasting her out of the sky," I told him truthfully. "Besides, she may be the one in charge, but there are other crewmembers on the _Windsoul_ that could be dangerous. Don't hesitate."

"Well, okay…" Vyse said dubiously. He went to the communication tubes the ship had instead of an overcom. He shouted down the one marked 'Gun Deck': "Aim the starboard cannons; fire at will."

After a brief pause, our ship's cannons—manned by Syf, Fina, Aika, and Enrique—boomed. One of the three shots hit the _Windsoul_. I watched the ship shudder through our bridge windows. A moment later, it was wheeling around to get us in its firing range. I turned with them, keeping just outside their limits.

"Does this ship have any Pyrulen jelly?" I asked abruptly. Vyse blinked.

"I… er… I don't know." He went to the communication tubes again. "Enrique! Aika! Is there any Pyrulen jelly on board?"

"Yes, there are a couple barrels here. Why?" Aika's voice echoed back through the tube. Vyse gave me a questioning look as if to say 'yes, why?'

"Use one." I said, calmly circling to the left of the _Windsoul _as it came out of its turn. Vyse relayed orders to load the jelly into one of the cannons, and I contemplated how to get the best shot possible. Recalling what I knew of the _Windsoul_'s layout, the ammunition was stored near the stern on the gun deck…

"Tell them to fire when I say so," I told Vyse. He nodded; I was very thankful that he wasn't arguing with my sudden taking-over of leadership. I think he knew that this fight was mine.

_'Damn straight it's mine,'_ I thought to myself, anger boiling up unexpectedly. _'If I could, I'd take on each of these Greylings myself… But that's foolish.'_

The _Windsoul _fired at us, taking off a good-sized chunk of our stern deck. I could hear the splintering crash even through the walls of the bridge. I winced, but it was an acceptable hit. I needed to get into the right position; unfortunately, that meant giving my enemy a brief window of opportunity.

Lucky for me, that brief window gave way to a vast sea of possibilities for my riposte. I felt a small smirk tug at the corner of my mouth.

"Fire." I could hardly believe that the low, malicious voice was my own. I had never heard myself sound quite so angry, and neither, apparently, had Vyse. He recoiled involuntarily, eyes wide, before giving himself a shake and relaying my order to the gun deck. Seconds later, the characteristic '_thwump'_ of the jelly leaving the cannon sounded. I watched it arc across the sky toward the _Windsoul_, trailing flame. It struck the ship's mast, and the glob splattered into countless smaller gobbets, raining down on the deck and rigging in a shower of destruction. My smirk widened into a savage smile. "Excellent. They're finished."

"No kidding…" Vyse said, sounding slightly awed. "That was a perfect shot. The entire ship is covered with fire; they'll never be able to douse it all in time."

"Especially if we fire a couple more cannonballs into their faces," I said. "Then they won't be able to douse any of it. They'll be sunk."

"True," Vyse grinned. Then the smile faded from his face and he looked speculative. "D'you think they have anything worth stealing onboard?"

"Vyse. Just sink them."

"Right, right…" he grinned sheepishly. He ordered another salvo from our cannons. I kept our course steady, parallel to the _Windsoul_'s, so we had an easy shot. There was no way they'd be able to load their cannons and fire with their ship in as much chaos as it was, so such an maneuver was possible.

There was a boom, and for a moment I was confused, because I thought at first it was from our cannons, but there was something wrong with the quality of the sound. Then our ship rocked and there was a larger, louder explosion. Of course; the blast hadn't been _our _cannons. Somebody was shooting at us.

"Where'd that come from?" I demanded. Vyse pointed.

"Looks like they called in some reinforcements," he replied grimly. I scowled, detecting the slight listing of the deck beneath my feet. We were hurting.

"Forget the _Windsoul_." I said briskly, making a few quick decisions. "She'll go down without our help. We need to reach Twyblade."

"We might want to get moving, then. I don't think this ship has much left in her," Vyse replied. I should have guessed that he would feel the tilting as well. I turned the ship to point the bow toward the island, towards Twyblade's base.

"I'm af—" I started, but another salvo from the other Greyling ship interrupted me. Our stern deck exploded in a shower of shattered wood, and the ship jerked to the port. I huffed as the explosion threw me into the wheel. Vyse, lacking such an obstacle in his path, flew off his feet and slid across the floor with a surprised yelp.

"Vyse," I said through gritted teeth, "Are you alright?"

There was a pause and then he groaned, "Yeah, fine…"

"Go get the others and head to the deck. We'll have to go the rest of the way in a lifeboat." I rubbed my ribs where I'd slammed against the wheel, wincing as my fingers found the bruises already forming there. Vyse hauled himself up, and moved stiffly to the door. I looked out the window at the island that was drawing steadily closer.

"I _will_ kill you, Twyblade," I growled, before letting go of the helm and jogging out to the deck. I was swinging a lifeboat out over the side of the ship when Vyse and the others appeared on deck. He and Enrique immediately moved to help me, ignoring the shaking that wracked the ship as another round of cannonballs slammed into its hull. The lifeboat knocked against the side of the ship, its swinging making it difficult to board, even as Vyse and I helped everyone across. As I handed Fina across the gap to Enrique, I noticed that the deck of our commandeered ship was noticeably tilting.

"Time to go!" I murmured to myself before Vyse and I turned and jumped into the boat ourselves. The lifeboat gave a jerk and then sprang into motion, its engine working at full power to send us sailing toward the island.

It did not take long to reach it, and we were fortunately not harried in our approach. The wreck of our abandoned ship blocked us from the Greyling ships, and we landed safely. Nevertheless, I didn't want to linger longer than necessary on the surface of the island.

"Everybody get inside!" I shouted, pointing to a door that was set into the stone of a nearby cliff-face. And to put words into action, I sprinted for it, counting on the fact that the others would follow.

Just inside the door, I pressed my back to the wall and looked around for any enemies or traps. I remembered the secret levers and trapdoors of the dungeons we'd been in before, and I wasn't about to waste time messing with them now. Happily enough, there was nothing I could spot in the room. I glanced over at the others out of the corner of my eye. They'd all followed; good.

"Everyone keep alert," Vyse said, as he scanned the room as well. I moved away from the wall, and paced forward deliberately. I paused, and glanced back.

"Ready?"

Each of us had an expression of determination set upon our faces, and our hands lingered near our weapons. I lead the way across the room to the next door, opening it slowly and carefully. But there was nothing on the other side except a dimly lit hall of packed dirt that stretched downwards into darkness. The scant lighting made it the perfect place to be ambushed.

"There isn't much light here, we'll have to…No," I cut myself off as an idea came to me. I turned to the others. "Syf, is there some way you can give us more light?"

"Yes." She cupped one hand and stared at it a moment. Pale orange flames licked the edges of her palm a moment later, stretching and growing until the light they cast filled the tunnel.

"Good," I said in approval, "That'll at least make it easier to see any potential threats."

"Let's hurry," Vyse suggested. "I want to end this before any more of our allies are hurt."

That was right… the others were still waging war in the skies as we wandered through this damn place. My jaw clenched as fury once more poured through my veins. I thought for a moment I might go mad; I had never before felt such a deep hatred.

"Vyse is right," I managed to growl. "Let's go!"

The hall continued downwards for a good distance, and I knew that it must lead to the heart of the island. It reminded me somewhat of the base on Pirate Isle, only a lot rougher. Unfinished. We reached the end of the tunnel. There were two doors set into either side. All of us glanced from one to the other, indecisive. Then Syf stepped forward and laid her hand lightly against the metal surface of the left-hand door. She looked to me, and I was suddenly unquestionably certain that that door would lead us to where we wanted to go. I nodded, and Syf opened it.

The hinges groaned lowly as it swung open. I moved to follow Vyse into the room beyond, but he jerked to an unexpected halt just inside the doorway. Hastily, I stopped to, and Aika ran into my back. I craned my head around to look over Vyse's shoulder and spotted the problem just as Aika began to ask what was going on.

"_You!"_ I said, nearly shouting. My entire body tensed and all that kept me from launching myself across the room, cutlass first, was the obstacle of Vyse's body in front of me. Facing us was Twyblade's First Mate, Jerem Wanthope.


	7. Chapter 25 thru Epilogue

**Trade Winds**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

* * *

"Welcome to Æsir's Base," Wanthope intoned, expressionless. "So good of you to come. I am sorry that our Captain is unable to greet you, but he has business to attend to."

I was growling, the feral sound rumbling up from deep within my chest.

"Lawrence." Vyse's voice cut through my blind fury. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was looking uncharacteristically solemn. "We will take care of this one. You go ahead and find Twyblade."

"No," I snarled, "_I_ _want to kill them_ _all_."

"Lawrence," Fina spoke up next. She laid a gentle hand on my arm. "Listen to Vyse."

I glared at them both for a moment before my senses returned, and I realized how foolish I was being. I swallowed my protests, and agreed grudgingly: "Alright. Fine. Syf, come with me."

The Glacian came to my side, and reached up to touch my face lightly with her fingertips; her touch cool on my forehead, my cheeks. I could feel her trying to sooth me, to lessen my anger.

"I'm okay," I told her. "Truly."

"Better get going, Lawrence. It's about to get messy in here," Vyse said flippantly, drawing his dual cutlasses as he stepped forward toward Wanthope. Fina, Aika, and Enrique followed at his back, each preparing themselves for battle. Syf slipped her hand into mine, and then we were off, running across the room to the door that was set into the opposing wall. Wanthope made a move as if to block us, but Vyse demanded his attention with a swift slash of a cutlass. The First Mate had to let us go, and without pausing to see how he was reacting to Vyse's attack, I shouldered the door open and went through.

Syf and I pounded down another hallway, this one lit by electric lights. We turned one corner at full-tilt and found ourselves suddenly surrounded by three Greylings. Fortunately, they were more surprised than we were, and fumbled for their weapons. I cut one down before one of his comrades got his blade in my shoulder. Or rather, across my shoulder, for Syf shoved me to the side just in time. But the blade still drew a line of pain across my skin, and blood spread from the wound. I hissed, spinning away. He took a swipe at my face, as the other remaining Greyling tried to get around to my back. I sidestepped to keep them both in front of me, and Syf at my back.

But Syf darted forward, quick as a flash, and swept her hands up and down once, as if directing a piece of music. Indeed, the chiming sound as the ice spears coalesced in the middle of the hall was almost musical… but their noise was overlaid by another: a shriek of pain. I tried not to notice how the clear facets of ice quickly became muddied with scarlet blood, and instead took a cursory glance at my shoulder. Pronouncing it fine almost immediately, I edged around the results of Syf's Crystalen spell, gesturing for her to follow.

Beyond the dead Greylings was a door. I took a deep breath, sensing somehow that it would open onto the end; be it either mine or Twyblade's. I reached for the handle, but Syf seized my hand.

"Wait," she said, her attention focused on my shoulder. She drew a finger across the wound, leaving behind unbroken skin and the tingle of healing. I could feel her fear in the back of my head.

"You don't have to come with me," I told her. "I understand how much you hate to fight, and I will not force you to do so."

"I know," she said. Her eyes were sad, her gaze suddenly much more worldly. "But I wish you did not have to, either."

_'But I can't allow Twyblade to live. He would destroy so many lives…'_ I thought, wondering how to respond to her statement. It turned out I didn't have to, for Syf caught on to my thoughts.

_'I know,'_ she told me again, and I knew she meant it. I reached for the door again, opening it and throwing it wide. The room was mostly empty, but for a high-backed chair and a couple radio consoles. Twyblade looked up from where he sat languidly in the chair. His face lit up when he saw me.

"Ah, Lawrence! At last, you came," he said. He stood up and spread his arms, and bowed, "Welcome! Welcome to Æsir's Base!"

"You know," I drawled, keeping a rein on my temper, "I would not have expected _you_ to suddenly turn coward and hide behind your fleet and subordinates…"

He blinked, looking momentarily confused, "How do you mean 'hide'? I ordered specifically that you were to be allowed through the defenses."

_'Ah,'_ I thought, enlightened. _'His underlings were lying when they said he was too busy to face me…'_

"Then I'm afraid your subordinates are dreadfully disobedient," I informed him. I gestured for Syf to back away. She obeyed, shrinking against the wall, hands fisted and pressed to her face. Twyblade frowned.

"Are they now…" he murmured, he stepped forward, away from the chair. Dual short swords hung from his waist, and he put a hand on each hilt. "I suppose I shall have to discipline them after all this is over, then."

I shifted as he did, keeping an eye on his movements, one hand on the hilt of my own cutlass. "You assume that you will be alive to see the end?"

Twyblade grinned fiercely. "Yes, I do. I see you've brought the Gigas with you. I suppose I should thank you; it'll save me the time of coming and reclaiming her."

"Bastard," I said mildly. Where before fury had burned, an icy hatred now slid through me.

The sound of three blades being drawn rang through the room. I broke to my right, running in a large arc, coming around behind Twyblade as he lunged forward. He spun before I could close the distance between us, parrying my cutlass with his crossed short swords. I disengaged, retreating and bringing my cutlass up into a defensive position. Twyblade accepted the unspoken invitation, and came at me in a flurry of spinning blades. I couldn't block both, so I evaded instead. I circled around him, occasionally darting in to cut at him.

Because of the nature of my job, I had come to learn many different styles of fighting, and I used them now. The linear retreat-and-advance, parry-and-riposte of the Valuan Empire; the swift and graceful dance of Yafutoma; the economy of movement typical of Nasr… I pulled every trick I knew. But Twyblade had a small advantage in his dual blades; he could defend with one and attack with another. I had to move faster, use the greater length of my blade to its advantage.

I came at him low, swinging my cutlass down and in. As he swept a sword down to counter, I changed my grip, swung my cutlass around, switched it to my other hand, and curved it into his side. This motion was smooth and quick, tracing a figure-eight into the air and a thin line of crimson into Twyblade's skin. He jumped back, scowling.

"First blood, Twyblade," I informed him coolly. He lunged, catching my cutlass in the crux of his two blades. He pushed down with all his strength, trying to force me to my knees.

"Do you know how many died for this cause, Lawrence? You would not have their lives to have been in vain, would you?"

I broke from him, slashing a quick 'X' in the air to prevent him from attacking me again right away as I shifted my stance. He still smirked at me, several paces away, the small wound I'd scored across his ribs had already clotted, but it didn't bother me. I knew I would get him again, but that the next time it would not be so slight a wound.

"It is for the people you murdered that I am stopping you now. They did not give their lives willingly for this insane plan," I told him. Ankle-slash, turn. He mock sighed.

"Must I explain it to you again? The Blue Rogues who died were going to ruin the plan. This is for the good of all Air Pirates."

"And what about the librarians?" I questioned. Side-cut, parry, retreat. "Surely a bunch of dusty old men weren't a threat!"

"Certainly. You are aware that most of them were sympathetic to either Captain Vyse or Emperor Enrique? They were a threat to the secrecy of the operation." High block, low block, catch his hilt…

We both shoved, trying to disarm the other, but we both also sprang back, diffusing the force of the push and keeping a grip on our weapons. As he retreated, however, he lashed out with his other short sword, and the point sunk into my thigh. I winced.

"Lawrence!" Syf cried. I held up a hand when she tried to rush forward, and she backed down.

"You say that you do this for the Air Pirates, but did you even stop to consider the people of Valua?" I demanded. Twyblade shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips.

"What of them?"

"How much would they suffer at the hands of the corrupt government you'd install in Valua?" I swung my blade in a crescent, trying to protect my injured leg as he stabbed at it again.

"They survived Teodora," he replied, unconcerned.

"You've lost all sense of who the Blue Rogue are!" I shouted at him. "We steal from the corrupt, stand up for the oppressed…"

"My dear friend… We're pirates," Twyblade laughed at me. "We are ever and always motivated by greed!"

"But we still work within our set of morals," I insisted. I slashed his shins, drawing blood. "That is why we are not called Black Pirates. Our manner of piracy defines us. By doing what you are doing, you are going against everything we stand for! You say you are doing it for the good of the Blue Rogues, but that is a bald-faced lie. The true Blue Rogues are the ones opposing you!"

I thought I saw something in his gaze change, but his eyes were quickly shuttered and the emotion behind them hidden. He came at me spinning his blades again, forcing me to circle around to evade. We were so evenly matched… the fight was likely to drag on for quite awhile, at least until one of us tired.

"This is a new era; one of peace. We have no right to take that away from people simply because we want to steal from Valua again. Times have changed, Twyblade, and it's up to us to try change _with_ them, not try to change _them_!"

Now I could definitely tell; Twyblade's eyes had darkened with anger. I was getting to him. He stalked to the left, and I moved with him.

"You fool," he growled, and lunged. He'd maneuvered himself so that he had his back against one of the radio consoles, and now he used it to push off of, increasing the power behind his charge. I crouched and brought my cutlass up, but just as he reached me, he sprang into the air and sailed over me, slashing as he went. I parried one… two… of his strikes, but the third slipped past my guard and I felt the steel of the blade split the skin of my back. I dropped away from the blow, rolling to the side before the sword-stroke could sever my spine or cause other significant damage. As it was, the wound across my shoulder blades burned, and moving my arms tore opened it more. I felt warm blood drip down my back as I straightened to face Twyblade again. I turned my stance sideways; cutlass held at waist-level, the tip pointed at Twyblade's face.

_'Now…'_ my brain told me, and I charged, light on my feet. The Yafutoman sword-style I'd been taught had valued speed and skill, and the names of the target body-parts flashed through my head almost as quickly as my cutlass through the air. _'Kote. Tsuki. Hidari-do.'_

Twyblade retreated under my attack, barely able to keep up with his blocks. But he did, though just as I was about to break through he resorted to striking out with a booted foot. I avoided it easily, of course, but it had the desired effect of causing a pause in my assault. Twyblade danced back, out from under my blade.

As I brought my cutlass back into position, he attacked for the third time with the spinning swords. This time as I circled him, I caught a glint in his eye as he watched me from the edge of his vision. That was all the warning I had.

"Moons! Obey me!" he shouted, summoning the spell quickly.

I didn't scream. But I can't really take pride in saying that, because I wouldn't have been able to, had I wanted to. The Electres spell coursed through me, locking my muscles so that I toppled to the floor, twitching horribly. I did hear a shriek, however, as Syf was in no way incapacitated as I was. The spell wore off and I lay panting on the ground for heartbeat or two—which really was no time at all, since my heart was racing so quick I could barely count the individual beats. I felt the hilt of my cutlass be torn from my clenched fist. I blinked and my eyes refocused.

"Syf!" I said, or tried to. My body would not respond. So I watched, mute, as she charged Twyblade, holding aloft my cutlass. With a cry of anger- but sane anger, not the terrible madness that gripped her as the Gigas within her manifested itself- she slashed at him. He fell back, surprised by the attack.

"Syf!" I croaked. I managed to lever myself up and climb weakly to my feet. She opened a wound on Twyblade's wrist, and that was when he caught up. He locked blades with her and drove her down. The cutlass clattered to the floor.

"No!" I shouted as he raised his hand again, and called down another Electres spell. Syf's body jerked and bucked with the flow of the lightning through her. Shouting something inarticulate, I threw myself across the room, snatching up my discarded blade. I kicked at Twyblade's ankles and he dodged back.

"Why Lawrence, have I made you mad?" he questioned mockingly. I shot a glance toward Syf, but she was lying unmoving on the floor. She'd curled into a fetal position.

"What did you _do_ to her?" I snarled, entirely prepared to spear the man through his withered heart, or if that failed, to tear his throat out with my bare hands.

"You didn't really think the Glacians would create such a powerful weapon without installing some… safety switches, did you?" He smiled and gave his swords a tiny, contemptuous flick. "Electres works so wonderfully well against Purple creatures…"

At once, Syf's memories of being tortured with the Yellow spell came back to me. I flushed with anger. I snarled wordlessly at him and lunged.

_'Hidari-men! Raven's Sweep! El Viento! Raven's Sweep Reversed! Kote! Hidari-kote! La Corazón!'_ I was furiously lashing out with blow after blow, all of the techniques I knew flowing into one mass of knowledge that I drew from. A move from one flowed smoothly into a move from another, the change in styles somehow not unbalancing me. _'Wolf's Claw!'_

I bound one of Twyblade's short swords, and gave a jerk. It flew out of his hand. His movements now flavored with desperation, he tried to shatter my string of attacks with his one remaining sword. He turned to the side, to present as small a target as possible. He blocked my next three attacks successfully, but the fourth drove him back a step.

Quite suddenly, the expression on his face changed from desperate to malevolent, and I noticed too late that he'd shifted to a sideways stance to mask his movements as he pulled some small object from his coat. He threw the Noxi crystal at my face before I could defend myself. It exploded on me.

I cried out, trying not to breathe in, but the poison gas made my eyes water and my throat burn. I leapt back, and shook my head, trying to wipe my streaming eyes on the sleeve of my greatcoat. I couldn't see Twyblade as he attacked, but instinctively threw myself to the side. It was a close thing. His blade bit into my side, and blood poured from the deep wound. But, had it been a fraction of a second later, he would have buried his sword in my stomach, and I would have been dead.

Curling around that side a bit, I tried to follow Twyblade as he circled me. He was down a sword, but I was down my agility.

_'Evarisch…'_ whispered Syf's mind tremulously. I saw, over Twyblade's shoulder, her head rise. Quickly, I focused on Twyblade and only Twyblade.

A small flamelet flared in front of his nose, and he flinched back. I lunged, grimacing as my wounds protested furiously. He parried my first attack, but could quite get his sword back for the second.

"Los Colmillos!" I said icily as my cutlass slid into his chest. He gasped, eyes going wide.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

* * *

Twyblade looked surprised as he died. Truly, it was rather anticlimactic. He gasped, looked at me, and shed his mortal coil. He fell slowly and slid off the end of my cutlass. I stood over his body a moment, a little shocked that it was the end.

I looked up from his crumpled form, blinking. _'What now? Oh, right… Stop the battle outside…'_

But I just kind of stood there, running over the whole fight again in my mind. My whole body ached, from the Electres spell, and the numerous wounds inflicted by Twyblade's dual short swords. Absently, I wiped my cutlass clean on his body and sheathed it.

Turning, I looked at Syf. She was on her feet, her shoulders slightly slumped. There were dark bruises on her face, and I wondered if they were from when Twyblade cast Electres on her. She'd fallen so heavily… Then I wondered if there were similar marks on _my _face. She met my gaze, and I gave her a small smile, turning painfully to face her. She smiled back.

Then the smile faded and her gaze refocused on something over my shoulder, her expression morphing into one of terror.

I jerked in response to the gunshot, more startled by the noise than the pain that accompanied it. I looked down at my chest, and watched, bemused, as a red stain spread from the ragged hole in my shoulder. It had missed hitting anything vital, but the bullets path had been unobstructed and it had gone straight through. Straight through…

Filled with dread, I lifted my eyes, just in time to see Syf fall.

"NO!" I roared, and ran to her. Sliding to my knees, I turned her over, pushing the hair out of her face. Her eyes were wide, glistening silver. She stared up at me, but her eyes were not focused on me. "Syf!"

I stared in horror at the quickly growing splotch of blood that dyed her shirt a garish vermilion. I hadn't expected Meshin to shoot her. I'd thought he would simply kill _me_, and take up the mastership. Perhaps I had underestimated his hatred of me, of us. Syf was lying limply in my arms, not moving. I took her hand. "Syf!"

She stared up at something I could not see, the look in her eyes one of wonder. There was a small, happy smile lingering on her lips. A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, sliding into the hair at her temple. There was a dark knot of dread choking me. Meshin had aimed the shot to tear through my shoulder and into Syf's chest. But at that moment, all my wounds were forgotten, my attention focused narrowly on Syf's face, and the gentle look of joyous wonder there-upon.

"So… warm…" she whispered. The life left her eyes.

"No," I said. "No, Syf!"

I'd never wept for anybody before in my life, but as I held the lifeless body of the slight, purple-haired girl, I found the tears streaming easily from my eyes. I pressed my forehead to hers, and wept.

"Get up," said a disgusted voice. Slowly I raised my head to meet the sulphur-yellow eyes of Meshin. He glared down at me, his lip curling in disdain. He held a pistol aimed at my heart. He must have come in as I killed Twyblade, or shortly there-after. "You pathetic slop; stand up."

I looked back down at Syf's peaceful face, and gently laid her down on the floor. Then I stood, unmindful of the drops of blood that dripped from the gunshot wound in my shoulder to the floor. I looked levelly at Meshin, expressionless, but with tear-tracks on my face.

"Well?" he sneered. "Is that it? Is _that_ all it takes to kill a Gigas and its keeper? Well, no matter. Better make peace with your gods, Lawrence."

"Hm," I said, as if I were thinking. "Well, I've always been partial to the Nasrean God of Fury."

"Witty," he said dryly.

"Thank you," I replied. "Isn't a gun versus a sword a little unfair?"

"Oh, I don't play fair," Meshin admitted easily. Truthfully, I wasn't surprised by this answer.

"Very well," I replied, and drew my cutlass. Meshin smirked, and drew a knife from a sheath at his waist.

_'I'll need to get that gun away from him, first,'_ I told myself. I tucked my chin and murmured, under my breath:

"Moons, grant me strength…" I released the Wevli spell at the same time as I sprinted forward, so I was following behind the wave of water. I didn't really expect it to work, but there wasn't much else to do, and if I had just outright attacked him, he would have shot me. Simple as that.

He shot into the wave that bore down on him, three times, but missed me each time. The wave died down, and I slashed at the gun in his hand. He pulled the hand away, and the shot he was about to fire at me hit the ceiling. I kicked at him, aiming for his side. He blocked with the arm holding the knife, and slashed at my ankle after deflecting my blow. But I was already spinning away. He brought his pistol to bear, but missed as I threw myself flat on the floor. I sprang up almost right away, with one of Twyblade's forgotten short swords in my free hand. I flung the weapon at Meshin's gun arm—well, _whipped_ it at him was more like. It whirred across the room like an oversized shuriken, and Meshin bent backwards to keep it from taking off his head.

There was a clang and a clatter as it took the pistol from his hand, however. It was luck, pure luck, that as he ducked, Meshin had thrown out his arm to keep his balance. The gun and the sword landed at the far wall.

Meshin swore, dropping into a crouch with his knife held in front of him. It was apparent that he knew how to fight with it. We both charged at the same time. He was good, very good. He knew how to take my sword stokes on that little blade of his and not have it break in his hand, though my cutlass should have been able to shear through the narrow knife easily. He knew how to use his weight and agility to even the fight. I tried to keep him at length, knowing that if he closed in I would be doomed. In a close fight, my cutlass would be next to useless, while Meshin's knife would be deadly.

"Were you even ever a Blue Rogue?" I wanted to know; it didn't seem like he could have ever held to the moral code. He laughed.

"No. I'm an assassin. Twyblade hired me because of my Glacian descent, before he realized he needed _you_. But he promised me I could kill you when we were done with you."

"I knew there was something about you I didn't like," I told him brusquely. He merely smirked, and closed. I slashed at him, but he ducked and weaved to the side. I brought my hand back swiftly, smashing my fist and cutlass hilt into his face before he had a chance to knife me. He turned his head with the blow to absorb some of the power, and brought his free hand up to strike a swift blow to my injured shoulder. I gave an agonized cry, dropping halfway to one knee, and he kicked my cutlass out of my hand. I took a blind swing at him with my fist, but he dodged it. I was panting from the pain.

_'I can't keep this up…'_ I thought dizzily. I dodged… stumbled, really… away from Meshin's knife-slash. My hands came up to grip his wrist and twist back his thumb from the knife-hilt. The weapon dropped to the floor, and Meshin tore away, going for the blade. I lunged at him, and knocked us both to the floor. We grappled. For a moment, Meshin had a choke hold on my throat, then I had my hands wrapped around _his_ neck. His fist glanced off my cheekbone. Then I had him pinned to the floor, an arm across his throat, using every ounce of strength I had to keep him there as one of my hands searched around for something—anything—to use as a weapon. My fingers closed on the hilt of the knife, and without hesitating, I raised it over him. His hands left off scrabbling at my face, and halted the downward descent of the blade. I shifted so that I pinned him in place with a sharp elbow in his ribs, and employed both hands in the effort to push the knife down. Gravity was on my side, and I used my weight to force it down.

Meshin made a strangled noise as the point touched his chest. The noise that he made as the blade sunk deeper is one that will haunt me forever. Even though I hated the man, and wanted him dead, I was profoundly disturbed as I stabbed him through the heart.

He made choking sounds, his body jerking, until every movement ceased and the force he'd been exerting on the dagger fell away and it became appallingly easy to plunge the knife the rest of the way in. I removed the blade and slit his throat from ear-to-ear, just to be sure.

Then I rolled off of his corpse, throwing the knife as far from me as possible. I was so very weak… I did not think I had the power to stand. I looked over to Syf's body and the distance between us seemed too great. But I determinedly shifted onto my stomach and began to drag myself toward her.

_'Moons, but it is hard to breathe…'_ I thought. I tried to lift my hands to reach forward and pull bring myself across the floor, my vision blurring as I watched my fingers only twitch in response. _'No…'_

But contrary to my thoughts, I heard my breath sigh out, and my eyes closed to darkness.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

I woke to a hospital room in Valua, to the relieved faces of Enrique, Moegi, Ilchymis, Vyse, Fina, and Aika.

"A bit crowded in here, isn't it?" I asked drowsily. Fina started to cry, and turned her face into Vyse's shoulder. Enrique put a gentle hand on my shoulder, the one that wasn't bandaged, his face a riot of many different emotions.

"Lawrence, we are so glad you have awakened at last."

"How long has it been?" It was, of course, the requisite question in such situations.

"A week," Ilchymis replied. "I trust you will at least_ try _to avoid these near-death situations in the future? I don't know how many more times you can be patched up."

I gave him a weak smirk. Even for having been unconscious for a week, I was still exhaustedly tired. The half-smile fell from my face, and I said: "Twyblade and Meshin are dead."

"Yes. Wanthope died as well," Vyse replied. I stared at the ceiling.

"And Syf…" I already knew the answer, but I couldn't help but say her name. The others looked away, not answering. I sighed. "Syf is dead."

"Yes. We… we took care of her body."

I was silent. She was dead, but… I recalled the dream I'd had just before waking… she was not gone.

"What happened to the remaining Greylings?" I asked then. I saw Fina and Vyse trade glances, the looks on their faces nearly shouting their concern at my having so easily dismissed the mention of Syf.

"They surrendered after Vyse sent a message that Twyblade was dead," Fina offered tentatively.

"They'll be sentenced by the Valuan High Court," Moegi said.

"Right..."I replied. I closed my eyes.

"Lawrence, we owe you such a great debt. Not only for our own lives, but for the lives of our subjects," Enrique said solemnly. I could feel the fatigue that had taken root in my bones start to seep into the rest of my body.

"I'll accept… gold…" I murmured, but I don't think he heard me.

* * *

A couple days later, when I was allowed to leave my bed, I was standing rather unsteadily on my crutches on a balcony of Enrique's Palace in Valua and looking out over the city. As true night fell the lights of the city seemed to shine more brightly.

The day before I had gone to the Puerto de los Muertos, where the people of Valua commended their dead to the eternal embrace of the sky, and where they had given Syf the proper sending off. I had needed to say my own good-byes, but now I felt a little melancholy looking at the lights that had once enthralled the girl.

My head turned almost imperceptibly as I heard somebody walk up behind me. A moment later, Vyse leaned his elbows on the railing. I waited for him to speak.

"I just came from the sentencing," he said.

_'Ah, that was right… the Greylings stood before the High Court today,'_ I thought.

"Did you hear the verdict yet?" Vyse asked me. I shook my head; I hadn't gone to the trial. Truthfully, I didn't care what happened to them; the crew of the _Windsoul _was dead, that's all I cared about. Kender, Galen, and Landric died with Tresa when the ship went down, Vyse killed Wanthope, and I accounted for Twyblade and Meshin. Let Enrique do as he wished with the others.

"Enrique sentenced the captains of the ships to death. The crews were given lifetime with hard labor," Vyse told me.

"Good," I replied. And I meant it in both ways; good that the Greylings were being punished, and good for Enrique for not being too lenient. He was an excellent Emperor; he knew when to show might and when to show mercy.

Vyse and I stood on the balcony a while longer in silence. I waited for him to speak again, as he so obviously had something else to say.

"What is it you want to ask me?" I finally inquired. He looked down off the end of the balcony, kicking the railing lightly with one booted foot.

"Did you love her?"

I blinked. Oh, I knew immediately who he was referring to, but it wasn't the question I was expecting.

"Love her? No…" I answered soberly. "At least, not the way you mean it."

Vyse looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"We were close, but not in that way. I mean… I shared my mind with her. She was like a part of me. Falling in love with her would have been like falling in love with myself. No. Our relationship was not one of lovers. It was closer to brother and sister, but even that isn't exactly right," I said. It was hard to explain how I'd felt about Syf.

"But you miss her," Vyse prodded. Briefly, I wondered if Fina had begged him into talking with me about this. It seemed like something she would do. And I realized that I didn't mind.

"She's not entirely gone," I said quietly, almost as if I were speaking to myself. Vyse looked at me sharply. I gave him an amused glance. "No, I've not gone insane."

Vyse flushed, and tried to protest that he hadn't been thinking that. I cut off his stammering. "You know that Syf and I were connected mind-to-mind?"

"I…Well, yes," he replied. I stretched my head back and watched the lightning spider-web through the ever-present clouds of Valua.

"There's a part of her still in my mind, and while it's there, she's not completely dead." As I said this, I fancied that I could feel that corner of my mind stir, as someone deep asleep might shift comfortably. But I knew that it was only an idle fantasy. That shard of Syf's mind contained within my own would not rouse ever again. But its presence was comforting. "Don't misunderstand me; she is not alive either. It is merely a small fraction of her that sleeps in me."

"I am sorry," Vyse said sincerely.

"It is over now. And I am not one to dwell on the past."

"Hm." Vyse fiddled with the hilt of one of his cutlasses. "Have you thought about what you'll do? Now, I mean."

"Enrique offered me a title," I divulge this little bit of information with a certain measure of tolerant amusement. "To honor me for my service to the Empire. I said no."

"Yeah, I don't think 'Lord Lawrence' quite has the right sound…" Vyse deadpanned.

"No. And I want to keep sailing, anyway."

"Do you? You know…" Vyse hesitated "…that position I offered you a year ago is still open…"

"I think I'll take you up on it," I said earnestly.

"Really?" He looked surprised. The little fool seriously thought I wasn't going to accept! I was an idiot the first time, and I like to think I never make the same mistakes twice. The time I'd spent back on board had shown me something, as well.

"There's no better ship than the_ Delphinus_," I said. The other part of my sentence was unsaid, but understood: I wouldn't sail with any other crew.

"No better ship…" Vyse agreed, smiling.


End file.
